


Heartbreak Café

by Noelleian



Series: Bedayat Jadeda [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Breakup, Disability, Drama, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Rimming, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, Top/Bottom Dynamics, implied infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-07-28 10:26:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7636564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelleian/pseuds/Noelleian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My entry for the GW Rarepair Big Bang.</p><p>After Trowa breaks his heart, Quatre leaves his life behind to open a coffee shop called the Heartbreak Café. Just when he finally begins to pick up the shattered pieces of his life, his two newest customers arrive to usurp the delicate balance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Upheaval

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Welcome to my new fic! This was my entry for the GW Rarepair Big Bang. It is already completed so I will upload a new chapter every day, or every other day. 
> 
> This wasn't easy for me as 3x4 is my ultimate OTP. To say it was a challenge would be an understatement, but I'm very happy with how it turned out. I hope you will be, too! ^_^
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, or any of its affiliates. Just this story so please don't sue l'il ol' me!

“Mr. Winner! Mr. Winner, what do you have to say on behalf of the worker who was killed while fixing your resource satellite?”  
  
“Mr. Winner, are you prepared to offer full lifetime benefits for the deceased worker’s family?”  
  
“Mr. Winner, are you going to be responsible for the worker’s burial expenses?”  
  
“Mr. Winner, what do you have to say about the lawsuit that’s been filed on behalf of the worker’s family?”  
  
“Mr. Winner, do you have anything to say to the worker’s family? Have you been in contact with them?”  
  
“Mr. Winner, what do you say to the concerns some people have expressed about the safety of your resource satellites?”  
  
“Mr. Winner, do you think the L4 colony cluster will suffer economically from this tragedy? And what are you prepared to do to minimize the impact?”  
  
“Mr Winner -”  
  
“Mr. Winner -”  
  
Quatre sighed, a soft, barely-noticeable rise of his chest and turned his most professional expression on the gathered reporters, nodding to them in acknowledgment of their endless sea of questions. It was difficult to pick out any specific question through the white noise of all of them talking at once. Someone who was not trained for this would have difficulty deciphering what was being said, let alone who said it. It took years of experience and practice to be able to not only comprehend the rapid fire inquiries, but to address his answers to the correct person.  
  
Quatre even went a step above that by remembering not only their affiliations, but each of their names. Trowa had always expressed fascination about Quatre’s ability to work the media. Like a maestro with a finely tuned instrument, he beautifully manipulated them when they came at him with an often aggressive need to see him stumble, see him fall. Trowa shied away from the spotlight, something that instigated a number of arguments between them over the course of the last six years they’d been together. Things had come to a head three years ago when Trowa punched a man who’d incessantly shoved his camera into his face while they were leaving a fundraiser.  
  
The news sites had had a field day reporting on the CEO of Winner Enterprises, _the_ Quatre Winner, of the prominent Winner family, having to bail his working class boyfriend out of jail after he’d been arrested for assaulting a tabloid photographer.  
  
_Trowa, you know this is the cost of being with me.  
  
I’m not the celebrity. I don’t need to make nice with those scum-sucking vultures.  
  
I know it’s irritating, but you’ve got to -  
  
You know what, Quat? No. No, I don’t. Whatever it is you think I need to do, just forget it because I’m not taking that shit lying down._  
  
The media continued to cover the incident with almost sadistic glee and still managed to throw that little tidbit on the end of any subsequent story that mentioned him, no matter what the subject matter was. Three years later and Quatre still hadn’t heard the end of it.  
  
_Oh, yes. Quatre Winner, the one with the volatile partner who once punched a cameraman after leaving a fundraiser for the War Orphan Memorial. Keeping it classy._  
  
“Mr. Winner, how does your… _partner_ feel about all this?”  
  
Quatre turned stern, almost scolding eyes on the reporter. She gazed back at him with unwavering confidence, brow arched in challenge. He graced her with his most charming, thousand-watt smile and addressed the viper on her own turf.  
  
“With all due respect, Ms. Jenner, my partner has nothing to do with this incident. He is not an employee of Winner Enterprises, nor is he a member of the media. He is a private citizen. And we all know the rules about discussing legally pending matters. We also know they do not mix with personal affairs. What he thinks, or feels about this incident is irrelevant.” He turned his attention to the rest of the reporters, speaking clearly into the microphones that were hovering in front of his face.

“To answer the rest of your questions, WEI has already issued a public statement which you can find on our company website. As for myself personally, I am working closely with the family and with law enforcement to determine exactly what went wrong and I assure everyone that we are doing everything we can to make sure this horrific tragedy does not happen again. More information will be forthcoming as the investigation progresses, but I’m afraid that’s all I have for you right now. Thank you for your time.”  
  
He turned away, ignoring the sudden influx of hollering and questions that followed, trying not to rub his ears when they distorted due to the near-screeching of some of them who shouted over the din to be heard. He stared straight ahead, expression neutral, as the security officers ushered him to his waiting car. His eyes watered and he blinked away the spots in his vision from the strobing lights of the camera flashes, already feeling a catastrophic headache throbbing beneath his temples.  
  
He pulled his arms into his body when he was inevitably grabbed, accustomed to the rough treatment, and quickly slid into the backseat of the running car. A security guard shut the door just as he swung his legs in and slapped the top of the car to signal the driver to go. Quatre relished in the sudden peace as it pulled away from the curb and rested his head against the seat.  
  
He was dog tired. It really was the worst kind. The kind of tired that left his limbs feeling like paper maché and five ton Gundanium weights at the same time. It was already dark, having left well past the hour that most people had retired to their bedrooms. He watched the lights pass by his window through half-lidded eyes and savored the quiet reprieve, the brief moments of having nothing pressing to do.  
  
The investigation was revealing some very problematic findings and Quatre dreaded where the conclusion was going. While the incident appeared to be a tragic accident, it was looking more and more like a man-made one and wasn’t that always the way? He’d hoped it was due to faulty wiring that could have possibly occurred when the satellite was struck by stray space junk two weeks ago. Unfortunately, while there had been damage from the collision, it seemed that was not what had caused the explosion. Human error was now likely to be the culprit. An error that was caused by a negligent crew foreman which made the situation all the worse.  
  
The information of the foreman’s conduct never made it back to him until after the accident had already occurred. And while Quatre was steadfast in making sure all of his employees were taking every precaution and doing things by the book, it didn’t stop the occasional wayward worker from fudging up in a way that reflected badly on all of them. Quatre may not have known, but to anyone who gave a damn, he should have known. As the head of the company, he was ultimately responsible and he was the one that had to answer when something went wrong.  
  
The truth was, he _had_ been in contact with the family. He offered to pay all the funeral expenses and decided on a pension that would pay out for the rest of the worker’s spouse’s life. She could now expect a nice, cushy check for the rest of her days in return for her pain and suffering. Quatre had even gone so far as to make sure his two surviving children had their complete education covered.  
  
But that hadn’t been enough, apparently. Who could possibly equate monetary value when it came to the loss of a human life, especially a loved one killed under your watch? The lawsuit didn’t surprise him in the slightest and he’d already spoken to his lawyers and decided to settle out of court. Of course, neither did that stop the widow from showcasing her grief in front of every camera in the Earth Sphere. And of course the media ate it up. Who didn’t love a good sob story?  
  
It’s not that he didn’t feel for the family. He did. His heart truly went out to them. But he couldn’t deny that he was bitter, most probably a little jaded. Who wouldn’t be after listening to anyone with an opinion, which was everyone, raking you over the coals day in and day out? It gets old after a while. Tiring. He felt heavy with it and he was looking forward to going home and hopefully spending some quality time with Trowa, if he was even still awake.  
  
He paused that train of thought, absently picking invisible lint off his dress slacks. The fact that there was trouble in paradise didn’t help matters. Quatre didn’t understand it. Things had been fine until several months ago. Sure, they had the occasional fight, but they always came back stronger than ever. They had such a close bond, almost from the time they’d first met. It had taken Trowa some time to warm up to him, but once he did, they were irrevocably drawn to each other. Quatre may have only been fifteen at the time, but he’d known what love was and Trowa was it. Trowa was his everything, his soulmate. He was the reason Quatre made it through his overwhelmingly stressful days.  
  
After the Zero incident, he’d resigned himself to the likelihood that it would never happen. Couldn’t even imagine trying to pursue a relationship with Trowa once he’d returned with no memories. His guilt over ruining the life of the boy he considered to be his best friend was gut wrenching and left him feeling sick, hollow. It still haunted him even to this day and he imagined it probably always would. Trowa could forgive, but Quatre would never forget.  
  
He was shocked once he returned to the Peacemillion after talking Trowa out of the Zero system to discover his friend’s memories had been restored. Even more shocked when Trowa accosted him in his bunker several hours later. Quatre was tossing and turning in a fitful sleep when the tentative knock at his door woke him up. He figured it was Noin, or maybe even Duo trying to solicit a card game out of him. It wasn’t the first time he’d engaged in a late night round of poker, or euchre with his braided comrade. When he opened the door to see Trowa on the other side, he froze in surprise that bordered on terror which was followed by a rush of shame, thinking the boy had come to give him a piece of his mind. He stood in his flimsy pajamas, barefoot, hair mussed, and ready for judgment, waiting for the verbal tirade over how he’d destroyed everything they might have ever had a chance to have.  
  
When Trowa stepped inside the room, Quatre expected to be struck and tried not to flinch as he anticipated the powerful fist that would no doubt knock him on his ass. He’d been ready to accept it, convinced he deserved it. Trowa towered silently over him, his face unreadable. Then he leaned forward and, almost timidly, pressed their lips together. Quatre was too startled to respond, staring bug-eyed at the wisps of the boy’s lashes resting against his cheeks. Trowa pulled away after a few seconds, the soft smack of his lips loud in the otherwise quiet room, and smiled sheepishly.  
  
“I’ve been wanting to do that.”  
  
Quatre’s intelligent response was, “What?”  
  
Trowa eyed him curiously, his handsome face slightly amused with a soft curl of his mouth. “I’ve been wanting to do that. Kiss you.”  
  
Unfortunately, it wasn’t Quatre’s night when it came to being articulate. “Why?”  
  
Trowa cocked his head, confused. “Didn’t you - I mean…” He blushed, rather cutely in Quatre’s opinion. “I’m sorry. Maybe I misread -”  
  
The puzzle pieces finally clicked into place and then metaphorically smacked him across the face. “Oh! No, yeah!” He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs out of it. “No. I’m sorry, I’m - you didn’t misread anything.”  
  
Trowa looked relieved and Quatre echoed the sentiment. His shoulders sagged under the rush of mollification, grateful that he wasn’t about to get pummeled. But the elephant in the room would not take a seat and as much as Quatre dreaded it, he knew it needed to be brought out into the open and addressed. “I’m sorry, Trowa. I’m so sorry.”  
  
“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it.”  
  
“I _did_ , though!”  
  
Trowa shook his head, suddenly confident where Quatre faltered. “No. I know you. Probably better than I know myself, I think. I know you never intended to hurt me.”  
  
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“Still, it doesn’t excuse -”  
  
“Quatre I forgave you even before I lost my memories. Having gained them back I -” He threw up his hands, gazing at the ceiling as he tried to find the words. “It just reinforced what I felt before.”  
  
Quatre’s heart pounded, pumping adrenaline through his bloodstream, his breath coming hard and heavy. “Which is what?”  
  
Trowa stepped closer, his eyes so earnest and so achingly filled with emotion, it hurt to look into them. “That what we have is - I’m not really sure what it is, but…it’s special. Significant. And I don’t want to lose you.”  
  
Quatre shook his head, the denial already on the tip of his tongue. Trowa losing him was a foreign concept, something that could never happen. It was preposterous, impossible. “You could never lose me. I - searched for you. I tried to find you. I never believed you were dead -”  
  
“Somehow, I knew that without you even telling me,“ he said, his expression almost pained. “But how is that possible? What _is_ this?”  
  
“I don’t really know.”  
  
It didn’t matter anyway. Trowa was already dismissing the whys and the hows with a wave of his hand. “I don’t much care how. I just know - whatever we have, it’s something that I don’t want to let go of.” His hand lifted and reached for him, his thumb and forefinger grasping a lock of blond hair. “It’s…something I want to explore further.”  
  
Quatre’s heart thumped against his rib cage, so hard it was almost painful. “You mean that?”  
  
Trowa nodded and bent down again, his lips grazing against Quatre’s. He seemed confident, sure of himself, but Quatre heard the hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Do _you_ want to?”  
  
Quatre didn’t even need to think about it. There was no doubt, no question. It was meant to be. “ _Yes!_ “ He blushed and covered his mouth with a hand at his exuberant shout and tamped down on his enthusiasm. "Yes, Trowa. I -”  
  
He didn’t get to finish his sentence because Trowa closed the gap and captured his mouth in a desperate kiss, blowing away Quatre’s train of thought like dust in the wind. Powerful arms curled around his back and pulled him in close against an equally powerful chest. There was a sudden tenacity within Trowa, a vigor Quatre hadn’t seen since before he’d lost his memories. His own arms lifted and wound around Trowa’s neck, his trembling fingers carding through the silky hair. He’d never been kissed before, but with Trowa it felt as though he’d done it a million times.  
  
It seemed infinitely more familiar when Trowa backed him up, what happened next written in the stars. He registered the bed hitting the backs of his knees and through the hazy dizziness, he realized he was being lowered onto it with a gentleness that made him feel weak all over. He marveled at Trowa’s physical strength and the feeling of being cherished. His hands, itching to feel the solid muscle, slid down over prominent pecs; the feedback through his palms feeding his ardor. His head made contact with the pillow and his breath hitched as Trowa settled on top of him. He savored the heavy press of his body, so new and foreign, yet so familiar and so achingly delicious. Through their enigmatic connection, they knew exactly what the other wanted. Quatre whimpered softly, a giddy feeling in his belly as Trowa lifted the thin material of his nightshirt and sucked a nipple into his mouth. The sensation was unbelievably erotic and zinged lightning bolts of electric pleasure down to his stirring groin which quickly swelled and hardened.  
  
Trowa graced him with a lecherous grin that made him shiver, and grasped the waistband of his pajama pants, pulling them down over his hips. Quatre blushed like the virgin he was and wrenched his head away in mortification as he was bared before the ravenous green eyes. Firm fingers, rough with callouses, gripped his chin and turned his head back. Trowa’s voice was hoarse, laced with reverence when he whispered, “Don’t hide. Don’t you know how beautiful you are?”  
  
Quatre’s face was flaming with heat at the compliment and he shook his head, dismissals coming quick and easy. “No…I’m not.”  
  
“You are though. I’m going to make sure you know that. I want to spend the rest of my life making you feel beautiful.” Trowa’s head dipped down, the long hair of his bangs tickling Quatre’s pelvis. He huffed soft breaths over the blond’s groin, teasing for a moment before sucking Quatre’s cock into his mouth.  
  
Quatre drew in a ragged, gasping breath at the stimulation, his eyes rolling back into his head. He was beyond words at that point, babbling incoherently from the wet heat that engulfed such an intimate part of him, a part never before touched by another. Unable to control himself, he soared into a near-frenzied state, shaking and writhing under the lascivious suction and the rough swipe of Trowa’s tongue. He didn’t know what to do with his hands so he allowed them to go where they wanted and hoped Trowa wouldn’t be angered by it. They clutched at his lover’s head, tangling strands of brown silk between his fingers. He was delighted that Trowa not only didn’t seem angry, but was even more aroused by it, uttering soft groans around Quatre’s cock. Quatre hissed through clenched teeth, clutching handfuls of hair and tugging gently when Trowa’s tongue laved at the sensitive underside of his erection.  
  
He rose to the cusp of climax in only a couple of minutes and just when he was about to leap off the cliff into bliss, Trowa pulled his mouth away. Quatre squeezed his eyes shut, growling in frustration at his denied orgasm. Trowa rose up over him, shushing him with a gentle finger pressed against Quatre’s lips. Quatre gazed up into the face he loved, his body flushing with need and he realized he was not above groveling. "Please…”  
  
There was a flash of wickedness in the green eyes that made his heart skip. “I want to try something. That okay?”  
  
_Well, what you were doing was perfect, but…okay?_  
  
His heart skipped again then restarted with a jolt, pumping twice as fast when Trowa stuck his index and middle fingers into his mouth. Knowing where his lover was planning on putting those fingers and turned on beyond comprehension at the prospect, his legs opened wide in invitation. His body thrummed with anticipation, quivering at the sight of Trowa’s pupils blown out to five times their normal size. The knowledge that his lover was just as worked up as he was amplified his excitement, the effect like a drug, the best aphrodisiac.  
  
He gasped, sucking in a sharp breath when one of the fingers breached him. It was painful, not enjoyable like he thought it would be and now he didn’t know why he’d thought it would be. It was nothing like his fantasies. He didn’t know what this was supposed to accomplish, or why the hell people even did it. He squirmed in discomfort as Trowa’s finger wiggled around inside him and just when he was about to tell him to abort the mission, his back bowed like a tightened string, a piercing cry escaping his lips as a spark of pleasure raced up his spine. His wide, shocked eyes landed on Trowa and caught the self-satisfied grin curling up the corners of his mouth.  
  
Desperate to experience that mind-bending sensation again and too horny to call his lover out on his smugness, he pleaded for more, his voice breaking on a filthy moan. “Oh, _Trowa_. Do that again.”  
  
Trowa pressed his hand forward, the tip of his finger touching that incredible place and Quatre’s cock, which had softened a little during this experiment, happily rose to the occasion, a bead of clear liquid gleaming at the tip. His hips rocked on their own accord, chasing that feeling again and again. He choked out a groan when another finger slid in beside the first, biting down on his lip and tossing his head against the pillow, lost in the buzzing current of pleasure that lit up within his body.  
  
“Like that?”  
  
He huffed a harsh breath and nodded. He felt sexy, sensual in ways he’d never known were possible. His hips pressed down onto the fingers, his hand scrabbling up to wrap shaky fingers around his cock.  
  
He felt as though he was on the verge of combusting, his body tensing up as his prostate was teased, legs spreading wide, a constant litany of moans escaping his lips. He clutched the bedding tightly, knuckles turning white as sweat broke out across his heated skin. He barely registered the sound of clothing being removed and his eyes popped open when he felt the weight of Trowa on top of him, just barely cognizant enough to figure out what was going to happen next. Surprisingly, he was too far gone to be nervous and he opened his thighs, stretching the muscles taut in a show of wanton need, the vulnerability only serving to heighten his arousal.  
  
“We need lube,” Trowa whispered.  
  
Quatre wanted to scream in frustration, but only managed a harsh, broken sob. “I don’t have any! Didn’t you bring some?”  
  
“No,” Trowa laughed softly. “I wasn’t expecting things to go this far.” He looked around. “Do you have any lotion, or…”  
  
Quatre wracked his brain, desperate to get this show on the road. “I have…I have lip balm. Will that work?”  
  
“Good enough.” Trowa lifted up so Quatre could wiggle out from beneath him and he dug frantically through his pants pockets until he located the tiny tin of lip moisturizer. Giddy with excitement, he scrambled back to the bed, sliding under Trowa’s body.  
  
He watched with wide-eyed fascination as Trowa opened the tin with fingers that trembled slightly and scooped out a generous amount of the sticky substance. He coated his stunningly gorgeous cock, in Quatre’s opinion, spread a little dab over the blond’s opening, and tossed the tin over his shoulder. Quatre giggled as it bounced off the wall with a _ting!_ Then Trowa was on him again and all traces of playfulness were gone. Quatre moaned, feeling delightfully dirty when he felt the tip of the hard cock brush against his opening and gritted his teeth when it pushed through the virgin ring of muscle. The pain flared across his backside, up his spine, and his body went rigid, cock softening once again.  
  
Trowa’s hands caressed him back into relaxation, sliding calloused palms over his hips and up his sides. “Ssh. It’s okay. You want me to stop?”  
  
Quatre shook his head despite the agony, breath shallow with pain. “No. No, it - it hurts, but…”  
  
“I promise it will feel good. Just give it a little time.”  
  
Quatre’s head dipped in a nod, reaching down to grasp his cock in an effort to distract from the searing burn and stretch. As soon as he began to consider that this was never going to feel good, the sting lessened and his body started to relax. Trowa peppered kisses onto his face and neck, whispering reassurances.  
  
“There you go. Just relax. That’s it.”  
  
He sucked in deep calming breaths, his body loosening incrementally. His cock stiffened again once he was able to appreciate the sensation of being filled, and the awareness of what was happening. Tears burned the back of his eyes at the dawning realization that Trowa was inside him. This was as close as two people could get. It was exhilarating. He felt new, grown up, and he whimpered, overwhelmed when Trowa withdrew his hips just a little, then carefully pushed back in. Then he did it a second and third time. Quatre’s breath smoothed out, his body adjusting with each gentle thrust. After a few minutes, it actually started to feel good. After another few minutes, he was moaning brokenly, the pleasure unlike anything he’d felt before.  
  
“Oh…God, Trowa. It - it feels _amazing!_ ” His body rocked across the bed as Trowa’s hips slapped against his ass. The sound of it was filthy in the best possible way and it spiked his arousal to unbearable levels. His back arched, his hips rolled in sensuous circles, and he had to bite down on his screams every time his lover’s cock pressed into his prostate. Trowa’s fingers curled around his calves, lifting his legs into the air which changed the angle and Quatre gripped fistfuls of the bedding, his eyes rolling back into his head. He squeezed them shut and sunk his teeth into his tongue, trying valiantly not to shout and wake his sleeping neighbors.  
  
Trowa was fucking him hard now and Quatre briefly noted he was probably going to be sore for a few days before the thought was lost in the waves of his rising orgasm. He panted as it began to build, the exquisite pleasure centered between his legs becoming more than he could handle. He pressed his hand over his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as his cock spurted ropes of come up his belly and chest. He choked, huffing around his hand while his body shook from the shattering climax. Trowa growled long and low, his fingers tightening around Quatre’s ankles. He came a moment later with an emphatic groan, releasing the blond’s legs which bounced on the bed and flopped to the sides. Trowa leaned over him, his hips pushing hard against Quatre’s ass, then he dropped down onto his heaving chest, his labored breaths ghosting over Quatre’s throat. Quatre felt the twitch and spurt of his lover’s cock inside him and preened, feeling deliciously debauched.  
  
He hummed in contentment, hand coming up to stroke the back of Trowa’s head. He flinched a little, sore when the softening cock slipped out of him, but he smiled when Trowa lifted his head, a tiny grin tugging at his swollen lips.  
  
“How was that?”  
  
“Mmm…that was incredible! ” He felt changed, like he’d been reborn. His senses were sharper than they’d ever been before. “I must admit, I wasn’t sure about doing that, but I’m glad we did. It felt so good.”  
  
Trowa dipped his head and kissed him and Quatre sighed happily as his lover’s tongue flicked into his mouth, twining against his own. He felt so safe, so warm, and so loved. Especially when Trowa curled his powerful body around him and he slept like the literal dead for the first time in his life.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
They’d made it work. Somehow, even when life got in the way, like magnets, they always found their way back to each other. It hadn’t been easy with Quatre’s obligations to his family as well as Trowa’s own obligations to the circus. His adoptive sister, Cathy, had not been happy about the relationship. Namely for reasons that had to do with what was between Quatre’s legs. She wasn’t above trying to talk Trowa into finding a “nice girl” right in front of him and it stung. Badly.  
  
Not that Quatre didn’t have to deal with that himself. Being the heir to the Winner fortune, it was expected that he produce an heir. His sisters were relentless in their quest to get him to reproduce and no amount of I’m-gayer-than-a-cock-flavored-lollipop would sway them. Not that he couldn’t have gone the same route his father had taken to create his sisters. Donating sperm wasn’t all that big of a deal, they’d said. But it was when the end result would be the production of another human being. One that he would be wholly responsible for. That was a problem.  
  
It wasn’t so much his sexual orientation. He just didn’t want children. He didn’t want to wind up being resented the way he’d resented his father. He didn’t want to create life for the purpose of using it for his own gain, his family’s gain. People weren’t commodities. He’d spent years hating his father for that very reason. Especially when he found out about the true origin of his birth. It wasn’t enough that he’d essentially killed his mother just by existing. He also had to discover the fact that his father had persistently tried to get his mother to abort him and insisted that another heir could be created the same way the other twenty nine Winner children had been. It was only through his mother’s abject refusal to terminate the pregnancy that he was even alive today.  
  
No. Gay, or not, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t bring a life into this world and screw it up the way he’d been so irrevocably screwed up.  
  
He also had to deal with the still pressing issues of homophobia in the media. It was bad enough that the great Winner heir preferred his partners with a certain appendage between their legs, but he’d had to choose a partner that was, in their eyes, a societal nobody. It didn’t bother Trowa nearly as much as it bothered Quatre. He’d been infuriated at the public’s casual disdain of his lover. It only got slightly better over the years, but not much, especially since Trowa wasn’t the most outgoing, friendliest person and showed about as much disdain as he received. Quatre couldn’t hold that against him.  
  
“Sir? We’re here.”  
  
He opened his eyes as the car came to a stop. Thanking the driver, he grabbed his briefcase and walked to the front door. He slipped his key into the lock and pushed it open, surprised to find all the lights on. Slightly worried, he set his briefcase in the chair by the door, slid off his suit jacket, and kicked his shoes into the tray. Loosening his tie, he stepped into the living room, glancing around for his lover.  
  
“Trowa?”  
  
It was quiet for a few minutes and Quatre was mildly alarmed, thinking something horrible had happened. Trowa never left the lights on when he went out. He was pulling his phone out of his pocket when Trowa appeared in the doorway that led to the kitchen. He was fully dressed which was strange for him at such a late hour. Quatre raised a brow at him.  
  
“Are you going somewhere?”  
  
Trowa looked stern, decided, but there was a tinge of guilt in his expression. “Yes. Actually, I am.”  
  
Quatre slid his tie off and dropped it onto the arm of the couch, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt. “You going to tell me where?”  
  
There was a soft, resigned sigh, then Trowa lifted the arm that was hidden behind the wall, his brown leather overnight bag dangling from his hand. “I’m…leaving.”  
  
He cocked his head in confusion. Where would Trowa have to go at such a late hour? “Leaving where? Did something happen at the circus? How long will you be gone?”  
  
Trowa’s eyes gleamed with an intensity, like he was trying to get his point across with a look. He swallowed and Quatre’s eyes were drawn to the bob of his Adam’s apple. “No, Quat. I’m _leaving_.”  
  
Quatre’s heart thumped erratically, red flags waving frantically in his mind’s eye. “Wait… _leaving_ leaving?”  
  
Trowa nodded and looked down, slinging the bag strap over his shoulder. Quatre’s chest tightened, his breath coming quicker as his adrenaline spiked. Trowa was leaving him? He knew things had been rough lately, but nothing that would warrant this. “Why?”  
  
“I can’t deal with it anymore, Quat. I’m sorry.”  
  
His body went cold for a second, then heated up as anger set in, slipping past the strong front of denial. “Now, wait a minute. Can’t deal with what? My life? Me?” He was automatically convinced he’d done something wrong, though he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. “What did I do?“  
  
"You didn’t do anything. It’s just…all of this. Everything. You being constantly hounded by the media, working all these long hours. All this stress you’re under…”  
  
Quatre could admit to all that, but Trowa was what helped him through it. He was his lifeline, his support. And he always tried to make it home to Trowa to spend as much time with him as he could. “Are you saying I’m not doing enough?”  
  
“No. I know you try, but…look, I just can’t do this anymore. I’m not happy. I’m sorry.”  
  
Quatre could feel the burn threatening to crack open in his chest, his eyes stinging. His first love…his _only_ love was leaving him? After everything he’d been forced to deal with, he realized he’d found the one thing he was not equipped to handle. “But…things will get better! We’ve had our rough times before, but we’ve always gotten through it. Haven’t we? Trowa…” He stepped forward, pleading now, desperate to stop this from happening. “We’ve always fought for each other. Ever since we were kids, we -” He blinked back tears, the gravity of the situation catching up to him. If Trowa had really made his mind up…“Where does this leave me?”  
  
Trowa’s voice was soft, contrite, and he refused to look Quatre in the eye which infuriated him. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. You’re strong. Stronger than me.”  
  
Quatre’s nostrils flared as the whirlwind of emotions carried him away. “So you’re just going to walk away? From everything? Everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve been, you’re just going to - just up and _leave_ me?” A tiny flicker of a past transgression lit up his brain and spread like wildfire. His eyes hardened, brows drawing low. “It’s _her_ , isn’t it?”  
  
“No. Quat…no…” But he still wouldn’t look up. Quatre’s teeth clenched, the rage threatening to boil over.  
  
“It _is!_ You’ve been talking to her again, haven’t you?”  
  
Quatre had caught him the previous year, _reacquainting_ himself with a young woman who Trowa had apparently known as a child. They ran into each other at a grocery store and had decided to catch up, which was all well and good. The problem was when Trowa had taken to continuing correspondence with her through video chats and text messages. Quatre might have been able to brush it off as friends keeping in touch except Trowa had seen fit to hide the interactions from him and that was what had made Quatre suspicious and angry.  
  
His curled his lip, convinced now, anger flitting across his nerve endings. “You son of a bitch.”  
  
“Quat -”  
  
“No. I don’t want to hear it. You want to go? Fine. You want to be with her? Fine. I hope you two are ecstatically happy together.” He turned away, heading to the bar for some much needed, mind-numbing alcohol. His fury was just barely contained beneath his skin and his vision tunneled as he honed in on the bottle of brandy.  
  
“Quat, I’m - I’m sorry…”  
  
He glanced at Trowa over his shoulder and sneered. “Yeah. So am I. Sorry I was such a fool. Sorry I wasn’t enough. Sorry I just wasted six years of my life trying to make you happy.”  
  
Trowa looked emphatically guilty, but Quatre just didn’t have it in him to feel any pity. He flipped over a crystal tumbler and poured a double shot of brandy, tipping the liquor back in one gulp. The burn was soothing to his frazzled nerves.  
  
“Quat -”  
  
“Just go.”  
  
Trowa hesitated. “I just -”  
  
Quatre slammed the glass down onto the granite counter top and turned, snarling, _“Go!_ ”  
  
Trowa took the hint and walked to the door. Quatre turned back to the bar, staring down into his empty glass. The door opened and closed with a click of finality and Quatre felt his heart rise up into his throat, then plummet into his belly, cracking open and spilling everything he’d ever felt for Trowa. Years worth of romance and domesticity, lovemaking and arguments, rough kisses and gentle touches, words of devotion and words of vitriol, _love_ and _commitment_ , rushed through his bloodstream and flooded into his internal organs like poison. His insides curled in on themselves and in a desperate attempt to stave off the inevitable explosion, he poured another drink and slammed it back, feeling the waves of liquid stress relief settle into his bones.  
  
Through the chaos in his mind, one absurd thought floated to the top and broke the surface.  
  
_Wait until the press gets a hold of this._


	2. Hit and Run

Thursday morning found Quatre flat on his back in bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He could feel his pulse pounding in his temples, knew it was going to hurt like a bitch when he got up. He idly contemplated never getting up again. Just resigning himself to the life of a vegetable. Which was tempting, until he realized that he didn’t really want to spend the rest of his life languishing in his own waste.  
  
He was slightly encouraged that his depression wasn’t so bad off that he no longer cared where he went to the bathroom. That was good, right? He licked his lips, wincing at the dryness of his mouth and blinked eyes that felt like sandpaper. He easily recognized the symptoms of dehydration, but just didn’t have the energy to move yet.  
  
What energy he hadn’t expelled running his father’s company, he’d put into Trowa. Six fucking years worth of it…down the toilet. Did Trowa care? Was he hurting, too? Or was he glad? Glad to finally be rid of the life he’d resented. Quatre knew it hadn’t been easy for him. This kind of life wasn’t for the faint of heart, that was for sure. But he was certain that their love for each other would overcome those odds. Where had it all gone wrong? When had some old childhood friend become more important than he was?  
  
He bitterly envisioned the happiness on Cathy’s face when Trowa returned to the circus and informed her that he and Quatre were no more. Could envision her pretending to be sad for them and failing miserably. He could imagine Trowa introducing her to this Miidi girl and could imagine Cathy just falling in love with her. Maybe even making plans for their upcoming wedding. Giddily thinking about venues and flowers and the pitter-patter of little feet.  
  
His stomach twisted and he rolled over, puking into the waste basket beside the bed. Not much came up, but what did stunk of brandy and he groaned between heaving, his esophagus on fire from the burn of regurgitated stomach acid. A thin film of sweat broke out on his forehead and he wiped it away with a shaky hand, rolling onto his back when the sickening wrench of his stomach subsided.  
  
He’d never met Miidi. For the longest time, he simply hadn’t known Trowa was talking to her in secret. The betrayed trust hurt enough, but to find out that she had managed to worm her way in between them stuck like a rusty knife in his chest.  
  
Did she care that she was a homewrecker? Did she feel guilty about ruining their relationship? Or was she vindicated, satisfied with her accomplishment? Having never met her, it was easy to imagine her as some villainous Jezebel who spent her time weaseling her way between committed couples and running off with the partner of her choice.  
  
But he knew he couldn’t really put the blame on her. At least not all of it. No, this was Trowa’s doing. He’d seen an opportunity for a way out and he’d taken it. Maybe he’d been in love with her and not Quatre all along. It would certainly explain his distance, his preoccupation during the past year. Quatre felt he should have addressed it much sooner. Thought he had, though his attempts to engage Trowa in discussion were unsuccessful.  
  
Now, he was going to have to spend God knew how long listening to the media gleefully report the ‘shocking’ news about how Quatre Winner had been dumped by his blue-collar boyfriend. The speculation was going to be imaginative, creative. The juicier, the better. All of the possible scenarios they could come up with would be discussed in intricate detail, having no regard for the human beings who lived through it. Quatre had never been a _person_ in the eyes of the public. Neither had Trowa.  
  
He felt drained, empty. He lifted a hand, heavy with fatigue and rubbed at sore eyes. He wondered what he was going to do now. He hadn’t slept a wink all night, having done much the same as what he was doing now. He was expected at work in…he glanced at his clock…two hours. He dragged a hand over his face, feeling the beginnings of stubble on his cheeks and sighed tiredly, thinking about the amount of energy it would take to get out of this bed, the bed he’d shared with Trowa, and walk to the bathroom to shave and shower. The amount of energy it would take to walk into that office and pretend the rug hadn’t just been swept out from beneath his feet. That his life hadn’t just been turned onto its head.  
  
It was energy he simply didn’t possess at the moment. He rolled onto his side and swiped his phone off the bedside table, pressing the speed dial for his secretary. He tipped the phone against his ear and counted the rings until she picked up.  
  
“Aiesa. Yes. Hi. Listen, I’m not feeling well. Cancel my appointments for the day please. Yes. Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks. Bye.”  
  
He hung up and tossed the phone behind him, not caring where it landed. He tucked his hands beneath the pillow and curled his legs up towards his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible. He felt gutted. So damned gutted. It didn’t seem like anything would be right ever again. He closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind of thoughts, hoping to be able to finally drift off, even if only for a few minutes.  
  
He did sleep though it was restless. His dreams were disjointed, achingly despondent. Visions of Trowa at the other end of a field full of sunflowers, his back to Quatre. Every time Quatre reached him, he would try to place a hand on his love’s shoulder, only to have Trowa disappear on him and reappear at the other end of the field. He never turned around, never spoke to him, there was only the stiff silence of his broad back. And no matter what Quatre did, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get Trowa to face him.  
  
He woke up in a cold sweat, tears dripping down over his temple and soaking his pillow. He sniffled around a stuffy nose and rolled over, wiping his face on his sleeve. He hadn’t bothered to change out of his work clothes, collapsing onto the bed when exhaustion took precedence. He stared at the empty side of the bed, imagining Trowa laying there beside him. Those sleepy green eyes peering at him in the morning sunlight, shining with all the love Quatre craved to see again. The love he hadn’t seen in over a year.  
  
He furiously scrubbed at his face and sat up, a little too quickly. He steadied himself by placing his hands flat on the mattress and waited for the lightheadedness to fade. Then he swung his legs over the side and stood up, padding to bathroom. He relieved his bladder and washed his hands, gazing at his pallid face in the mirror. His eyes were glassy, bloodshot, exhausted. He flipped open the door of the medicine cabinet with a heavy sigh and fished out a bottle of aspirin. He popped two pills and chased them down with a glass of water. He could hear his phone ringing and chose to ignore it, not caring if it was the President of the Earth Sphere herself. Whoever it was could go fuck themselves.  
  
He shambled into the kitchen, turned on the coffee pot, and peered into the fridge, looking for anything that might appear edible, but his stomach was not in the mood. He slammed the door and went back for the coffee. It would have to do for now.  
  
The phone rang again and he let it go to voicemail. He sat at the counter and sipped his coffee, wondering how he was going to be able to spin this. The public would find out. They would devour the scoop like rabid animals, like an all-you-can-eat shrimp buffet on a Saturday night. It would be on the cover of every tabloid, featured at the checkout lines of every grocery store, consumed by every housewife and busybody on L4. It left him with a sour taste in his mouth.  
  
Or maybe that was the excess brandy he’d drowned himself in last night. _You might want to get your liver checked, champ. You gave Johnny Cash a run for his money._  
  
Of course, he could always say he’d kicked Trowa out. The media would take his word over Trowa’s. He dismissed that idea before it had a chance to fester and grow. He’d never been disingenuous before, he wasn’t going to start now.  
  
At any rate, he had to be back in the office tomorrow. His secretary would inevitably ask how Trowa was. What could he say? _Ask his girlfriend? I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you?_ Nothing came to mind that sounded the least bit appropriate.  
  
The phone rang again and he dropped his head onto the counter with a groan, then pulled his fatigued body off the stool, dragging it over to the wall where the ringing nuisance hung on its mount. He contemplated smashing it onto the floor, but decided that probably wasn’t the best idea. He yanked the receiver off the cradle and hit the ‘talk’ button.  
  
“ _What?!_ ”  
  
“Well, aren’t you chipper this morning.”  
  
He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. “Hello, Adila.”  
  
“What’s going on with you? Why so snappy?”  
  
He snorted and picked at his nails. “It’s a long story.”  
  
“Well, you’ve got time to tell me all about it during our lunch date.”  
  
“Oh, _shit!_ ”  
  
“You forgot.”  
  
“I’m sorry, sis. I did.”  
  
“Typical.”  
  
“I have a good reason this time.”  
  
“Why? What happened?”  
  
“Can we - I don’t know…do this another time?” He really didn’t want to leave the house.  
  
“Why? So you can mope around in your pajamas all day?”  
  
_Yes_. “No,” he said, a touch defensively.  
  
“Aren’t you working today?”  
  
He tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and poured himself another cup of coffee. “Took the day off.”  
  
“Well, this must be serious. What could be so bad that my favorite baby brother actually called off work?”  
  
He tipped his head back, a loaded sigh whistling past his lips. _What the hell. She’s going to find out anyway._ “Trowa left.”  
  
“Well, he’ll be back soon. Right?”  
  
“No, Adila. He _left_.”  
  
It was quiet for a few minutes and Quatre could almost hear the cogs in her brain squeaking as they turned. He propped his hand on his hip and waited for her to connect the dots.  
  
“He _what?!_ ”  
  
_There_ _it is_. “Yeah. Last night.”  
  
“For what - _why?!_ ”  
  
“He said something about not being able to deal with it anymore, or…I don’t know.” He idly peeled a hangnail away from his cuticle to distract from the rising anguish that filled his chest cavity. He swallowed around the swelling lump and blinked the tears away, clearing his throat. _Don’t fucking cry_. “I think he left me for a woman.”  
  
“That sonofa - oh, _sweetheart!_ Are you okay?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Well, we’ll talk more about this at lunch -”  
  
“Oh, Adila, I really don’t want to -”  
  
“Shut up and meet me at Rosita’s like we planned. Twelve sharp.”  
  
“Adila -”  
  
The line clicked before he could finish protesting and he glared at the phone, absurdly hoping Adila would sense it. He turned it off and stuck it back on the cradle. Adila was nothing if not hard-headed, even more stubborn than he was. She was also the only one out of all his twenty nine sisters he could ever really talk to, though Iria might have also been a friend and confidant if she’d survived beyond the war. Adila was the only one who accepted his sexual orientation without reservation, without condition. It was bittersweet knowing she was the only one in his family he could count on, but he was grateful for her presence.  
  
Unfortunately, now he had to clean himself up and actually go out in public which he dreaded. Adila would never take no for an answer. He leaned over the counter and propped his chin on his hand, gazing out the window without actually seeing anything. They met once a month for lunch and Rosita’s was Trowa’s favorite L4 restaurant.  
  
For some reason, that hit him hard. The painful reality that Trowa was gone, dropping onto him like the curtain closing at the end of a performance. This era of his life over, just like that. _That’s all, folks. Show’s over._ He dipped his head, resting his forehead on his arm and tried not to cry, but the dam had already sprung a leak. The fissure cracked even more and the tears dripped onto the countertop as he began to lose control.  
  
_What are you holding it back for, you idiot? Who are you trying to hide your pain from? Yourself? Let it go._  
  
He choked, a whimper escaping from between trembling lips. One last valiant effort to quell the impending breakdown and then the last of his defenses crumbled away. He collapsed under the onslaught, knees buckling and he slid down the cabinets until his ass hit the tiled floor. He curled his legs beneath him, hid his face in his hands and unleashed the tsunami of emotions.  
  
He sat for a long time after that, sniffling and wiping the stray tear here and there until he felt strong enough to stand again. He struggled to his feet and splashed cold water onto his face. His nose was clogged, his eyes raw, but the water was soothing. He patted himself dry with a paper towel and left for the bathroom to clean up and attempt to look more together than he felt.  
  
He shaved quickly then jumped into the shower, not even bothering with a wank. He couldn’t have gotten it up if his life depended on it. He wondered if he’d ever get another erection again and glanced down at his flaccid cock with a strange sense of moroseness. _This is it. I am a eunich. Thanks for the ride, little guy. It’s been fun, but the ship has sailed._  
  
He decided he’d officially lost his mind when he suddenly doubled over in a fit of hysterical laughter. He placed a hand flat on the wall to steady himself as his body shook with mirth. It took a few minutes for the residual giggles to subside, but he eventually straightened up and managed to finish his shower without any further lapses of sanity.  
  
Unfortunately, he lost it again when he opened the closet door to find something to wear, his eyes taking in the empty side, the hangers looking forlorn without Trowa’s clothing attached to them. He took deep breaths through his nose, forcefully pushing down the wave of agony and yanked a shirt and pair of pants out with more violence than was necessary.  
  
Now, the question was, would he be able to get through a lunch in public without losing his shit?  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Rosita’s Italian Cuisine was a popular hotspot on L4. Their food was spectacular, authentic. Unfortunately, that meant noon on a Thursday saw the place with the ever-present line out the door. If Quatre could be optimistic about who he was, he could be thankful that his name got him an immediate table. Normally, he didn’t like to do that, but today he didn’t much care about taking cutsies.  
  
Adila greeted him solemnly, taking him into her arms and holding on tight. She held him much longer than she usually did and he was grateful for the embrace, the shoulder to lean on. He briefly buried his face into the soft material of her sweater and employed iron will to keep his emotions in check. It wouldn’t do to have him break down in front of all these people.  
  
“I’m so sorry, sweetie.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
He followed behind her as the host ushered them to their table. The place was loud, filled to the brim with noisy patrons on their lunch hour. He ignored the turning heads and glances in his direction as he walked to the table and sat down across from his sister, unfolding his napkin across his lap.  
  
Adila’s eyes were shiny, shimmering with worry. “How’re you doing?”  
  
“I’ve been better.”  
  
“So what happened?”  
  
Quatre patiently waited for the waiter to pour the ice water into their glasses and ask for the drink orders. “I just came home last night and he was already packed to go. I asked him why and he said he just couldn’t deal with it anymore -”  
  
“Deal with _what?_ ”  
  
“My life, I guess. My…public persona, my stress, my hours…who knows?” He took a sip of water to cool his throat and stared down at his place mat.  
  
“But you said you think he left you for a woman. Is it that same one as before? Mirdy?”  
  
He nodded. “Miidi. Yeah. I mentioned that and he denied it only a little at first, but then he didn’t deny it and…I know he just doesn’t want to tell me.” He dropped his head into his hand. “I’m so stupid.”  
  
“Oh, sweetie. You’re not -”  
  
“I _am!_ I thought that…whatever it was between them was all over. Thought they were no longer talking to each other, but…I just knew that was what it was. I guess I just didn’t want to see it.”  
  
“That’s understandable.”  
  
“I tried, Adila. I tried so hard to make him happy. Why couldn’t I make him happy?” He choked a little, then glanced around, quickly schooling his features at the inquisitive glances that were sent his way. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, that’s the long and the short of it. Six years pissed down the toilet. End of.”  
  
“I’m sorry, honey. I wish there was something I could do.” Her eyes gleamed mischievously. “You want me to beat him up?”  
  
Quatre snorted. “It’s tempting, but no.” He leaned back when their drinks arrived and thanked the waiter. He dutifully ordered his meal even though he wasn’t hungry and waited for him to walk away before he leaned forward again. “The thing is…Trowa was the only thing that made me happy.”  
  
Adila pressed a hand against her chest, looking mock-offended. “What? I don’t make you happy?”  
  
He laughed softly. “Besides you. I’ve hated my job for years. Trowa…he was the only thing that got me through it. I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”  
  
Adila gave him a sharp look over the rim of her wine glass. “You know I’ve been telling you to find a new career path.”  
  
“Adila,” he rubbed his forehead, not thrilled to be opening this can of worms. “Do we have to have this conversation again? You know I can’t do that.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
He turned incredulous eyes on her. “Why not? Because I have responsibilities and duties to uphold -”  
  
“Oh, duties schmooties.” She waved her hand. “Let Marisa have it. She’s been trying to wrench the company out from under you for years.”  
  
Quatre winced at the mention of their second oldest sister. That much was true. Marisa had been trying to wrestle it from him ever since he took control of it eight years ago, even going as far as attempting to seize it through court. “But isn’t that like letting her win?”  
  
She shot him a derisive look and set down her wine glass. “Does it feel like losing?”  
  
He realized it didn’t. He hated his job. Hated his position. But, still…”What would I do then, though?”  
  
“What do you want to do?”  
  
He shrugged, at a loss. “I don’t know.”  
  
“Well, think about it. You’ll have the time and plenty of money to live off of until you figure it out.”  
  
“But…I just feel like I’m giving up.”  
  
“You’re not giving up, Quatre. You’re giving yourself what you need. What you’ve needed for a long time. Let Marisa have WEI and do what makes _you_ happy.”  
  
He was surprised to find the suggestion increasingly tempting the more he thought about it. He nodded and stirred his drink. “I’ll think about it.”  
  
She held up her hands. “That’s all I ask. You know I’ll support you whatever you choose to do.”  
  
There was still another pressing matter. “The media, though…”  
  
She scoffed. “Who gives a shit what those assholes think?”  
  
He shot her a wry grin and raised his glass to his mouth. “It’s easy to say that when you’re not the one making the headlines.”  
  
“Do you honestly think even if I was that I would care?”  
  
No, actually in Adila’s case, she probably wouldn’t. She didn’t care what anyone thought of her. She did her thing and she did it with her convictions firmly in place. He admired her that. “I wish I could be more like you.”  
  
“You can be. Look, I know it won’t be easy, but…you are strong, you are smart, and you deserve happiness. Don’t let anyone, not even Trowa, take that away from you.”  
  
He smiled at her. “I’m so lucky to have you.”  
  
“Damn right you are. But, seriously. I’m glad you’re actually thinking this over instead of just dismissing me this time. I think it’s something you need to do.”  
  
The prospect really was tempting and he found himself actually a little cheered. The ability to live his own life, the way _he_ wanted to. He was surprised to find his appetite even came back a little and ate his chicken and pasta with an enthusiasm he hadn’t expected. When the meal was over, she gave him another hug and kissed his cheek.  
  
“I have to go back to work, but I want you to call me if you need me. You have my direct number and you can call me at home anytime. Even if you need to cry at three o’clock in the morning.”  
  
He laughed and hugged her tightly. “Thanks, Adila.”  
  
She patted his cheek affectionately. “I love you, kiddo. I’m here for you.”  
  
“I know. Thank you.”  
  
“Don’t thank me. Just be happy. That’s all I need from you.”  
  
He nodded, suddenly overcome with emotion again. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and thanked his lucky stars for Adila. He didn’t know what he would have done without her.  
  
They parted ways outside the restaurant and he felt a little lighter as he walked down the sidewalk, actually lifting his head a little to take in the sunshine. It felt amazingly good.  
  
But, could he really leave WEI? Was it as easy as Adila made it out to be? To just sluff off his responsibilities to the company felt wrong. Maybe it was because he’d been conditioned to believe that was his purpose since he could walk. It was ingrained in his psyche. Part of his DNA.  
  
And what could he possibly do? His first thought was teaching. A professor, or maybe teach music. Or maybe he could go out of his comfort zone and be a stuntman, or something. He laughed a little at the visual his mind produced. No, perhaps not. That would be more Duo, or Trowa’s thing. What did he enjoy? What else was he good at? _Come on, Quat. Give that gray matter between your ears a little workout._  
  
The rich smell of java wafted across his nose as he passed by a coffee shop and he stopped short, doing a double take. It was a cute place. A nice, classy little storefront. Trendy, with pots of flowers and little wrought iron tables with blue umbrellas set about on a brick patio. He chewed his lip, considering. Maybe he could open a coffee shop? He loved coffees, teas. He was good at running a business, had extensive experience at it. It actually sounded kind of fun. Maybe he could find a place on Earth, by the beach somewhere. People always loved coffee. For some, it was even a necessity. The idea quickly grew on him and his mouth curled up into a smile. _Oh hell yeah. This is definitely doable._  
  
He wondered if the media would leave him alone after that. Let him be a private citizen, a nobody. It sounded wonderful. The prospect of not having every second of his life broadcast for all the world to see, to judge. He grudgingly admitted he could see the draw for Trowa. It was a draw for him, too. Sweet anonymity. He wasn’t foolish enough to think that would actually happen for him. Not with his name. Not with his face. But maybe it would be reduced to bearable levels. That he could deal with.  
  
But then, of course, he would have to sign WEI over to his sister. He knew she would do well at the helm. She was sharp, shrewd, a born leader. She already ran a successful Fortune 500 company which she’d launched from the ground up. Her vision was to merge the two together to create a multi-trillion dollar conglomerate. Their father would probably roll over in his grave. And that was all the more incentive.  
  
He chuckled and fished his ringing phone out of his pocket, glancing down at the ID readout. His stomach plummeted when Trowa’s name appeared. Had he changed his mind? Did he want to come back? Did he realize Quatre was the only one for him? His heart pounded at the possibilities as he pressed the phone against his ear, cringing a little at the tremble in his voice.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Quatre. It’s me. Trowa.”  
  
“Yes, I know that. I’m not stupid.”  
  
There was a pause. “Right. Sorry. Listen, I just wanted to know when would be a good time to come get the rest of my stuff.”  
  
Quatre squashed down the heavy disappointment and breathed hard through his nose, trying not to let it be audible in his voice. He glanced down the street, checking for oncoming cars as he stepped off the curb. He kept his tone curt, short. “Whenever. I don’t really care.”  
  
“Quat, I really am sorry about all this. Sometimes it’s just -”  
  
Quatre didn’t hear the rest over the blare of horns and the screech of tires. He glanced up, having only enough to time to think, _Oh, shit. This is going to hurt_ , before the taxi slammed into him. His vision darkened. His awareness shrunk down into a pinpoint, detaching itself from reality. He was disoriented when he was thrown on top of the hood of the car, then he rolled back off as the vehicle abruptly stopped. He hit the ground, numb from the neck down, coming to rest on his back. He felt a peace unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, oddly removed from the situation as he stared up through the artificial atmosphere of the colony. Some barely cognizant area of his brain informed him he was going into shock before it faded and became irrelevant. Faces appeared above him, hovering in his line of limited sight, their expressions filled with horror.  
  
_I can’t feel anything. Is it really that bad?_  
  
He could vaguely hear shouting and the screech of more tires. Some of the faces above him contorting with anger as they pointed and hollered at someone he couldn’t see. With his last shreds of coherence, he surmised that the driver must have taken off.  
  
He blinked unfocused eyes as his head was gently lifted, then laid back down on something soft, someone’s jacket perhaps. Another man slid his red windbreaker off and covered Quatre’s torso with it. Through the unnerving ringing in his ears, he could hear voices telling him not to try to move, or speak. Could hear them shouting at others not to move him. A woman leaned down over him, her deeply lined face stony and grim.  
  
“Just hang on, Mr. Winner. I’m a nurse and I’ll look after you until the ambulance gets here. You’re going into shock so we just need to keep you warm and calm until the paramedics can stabilize you enough to get you to the hospital.”  
  
His lips parted as he tried to speak, wanting to tell her so many things. _I don’t want to die. I hope Adila isn’t coming over here. She’ll be late for work. Tell Trowa I love him and I forgive him. I was going to open a coffee shop, you know._ His lips were sticky, his mouth filled with a thick liquid. Through his muted senses he picked up the copper flavor, realizing it was blood and figured he likely had internal bleeding. He blinked increasingly heavy eyelids, desperately trying to keep them open, and was dismayed when his vision blurred and went black.  _No! I don’t want to die! Please!_  
  
The woman, the nurse’s voice sounded far away and his dimming awareness reached out for it, clinging to it like a lifeline. “Don’t try to talk, okay? Just stay still. If you have a spinal injury, we have to keep you immobilized so we don’t cause anymore damage.”  
  
He could hear the sirens in the distance through his disjointed hearing, but now they sounded more like his alarm clock to his fading consciousness. _Trowa, would you get that? The alarm’s going off.  
  
__Oh, God. I’m dying. This is it. I’m not going to wake up again. Not this time._  
  
This morning, last night, he might have welcomed that, but now? Now he wanted to live.    
  
His eyes drifted closed, his last fleeting thought was that Trowa had probably heard the accident.


	3. Starting Over

His first moments of awareness were of incoherence and confusion. Blobs of light and blurry faces appeared through eyes that hurt. There was the soft murmurs of what he thought were voices, though he couldn’t make out what they were saying. There was pain in some of his slightly more unambiguous moments. A roaring agony from the waist down. His consciousness flitted in and out and he had no idea what was happening, or where he was. The fleeting thought that he was dead and in Hell bubbled to the forefront of his mind before it was lost again in a sea of pain and bewilderment. These moments seemed endless, something he couldn’t count, or keep track of. He had no sense of time, only frightening disorientation. He tried to speak, tried to scream, but the only thing he could do was whimper and groan. There were soft touches on his face, his head, and a soothing voice, shaky with tears.  
  
“It’s okay, Quat. Just hang in there. You’re going to be okay.”  
  
_Quat? Is that my name? What happened? Where am I? Am I dead?_  
  
The questions he couldn’t voice died on lips that wouldn’t vocalize them and then they were gone again as his consciousness faded away.  
  
Sometime later, though he didn’t know how much later, he roused with slightly more lucidness than he had before. The first thing he heard was the beeping. His groggy mind struggled to make sense of it. His first thought was that he was at Rosita’s, hearing the beeping from within the kitchen that usually occurred when an order was up. It was the last thing he remembered for some odd reason. But his equilibrium told him that he was lying flat.  
  
There was a powerful _hiss_ next to his ear and he noted with a little panic that something was lodged in his throat. His confused mind made the conclusion that he was in the restaurant and that he was choking on his food. He struggled weakly, hands scrabbling up his chest, coming in contact with a long tube that went to the side, in the direction of the hissing sound. He tried to take a deep breath, disoriented when it seemed air was being pushed into his lungs and then sucked back out. It was steady, controlled. His fingers wrapped around the tube and he tugged at it, his eyes cracking open.  
  
He was met with blurry light and not much else. Scared, he glanced around, not knowing where he was, what was happening. In his mind, there was a strange, and extremely loud screeching sound and he pulled harder on the tube, trying to yank it out. A familiar face appeared in his line of sight, blurry, but he vaguely recognized it, recognized the caring voice.  
  
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t fight the machine.” He whimpered around the tube, terrified. A soft, gentle hand brushed his hair away from his face. “Quat, honey, don’t fight it. It’s breathing for you until you can do it on your own.”  
  
It wasn’t reassuring and Quatre struggled harder. _What machine? And why is it breathing for me? What the hell happened?_ He realized with a sudden start that his body was immobilized, felt pinned down with heavy weights, unable to move which made him panic even more. He tossed his head back and forth, tears collecting in his eyes, trying to convey his confusion.  
  
“Baby, I know. Just relax. Ssh. It’s okay. You need to relax.”  
  
Instead of relaxing, he flailed, his limbs jerking weakly off the bed, desperate to get this thing out of his throat. The woman turned and shouted, “Nurse!” Her eyes were wide when she turned back to him. “They’re going to have to sedate you again if you don’t calm down, honey. _Please_.”  
  
There was a flurry of movement, hands wrapping around his wrists and pressing them down onto the mattress. More faces appeared above him.  
  
“Mr. Winner, you need to calm down.”  
  
He tried to speak and couldn’t around the plastic in his mouth, wanting so badly to know what had happened. He couldn’t remember. He watched as someone in a white uniform step up and fiddle with a bag that hung on a metal pole beside him and he realized with a start that he was in a hospital. Something had happened, but he couldn’t remember what. He struggled against the hands holding him, trying to fight them, but he was as weak as an infant. His body would not cooperate.  
  
“Mr. Winner, we’re giving you a mild sedative. It’s just to relax you so you don’t fight the ventilator, okay?”  
  
He could feel the onset of the grogginess, quickly overtaking the fear and he glanced frantically at the familiar face, begging her to make them stop. She smiled at him, her eyes sad. “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine.”  
  
_No! It’s not fine! What happened to me? What happened?_  
  
His eyelids grew heavy, his limbs suddenly feeling like ten ton weights, relaxing under the influence of whatever they’d given him. His consciousness dimmed again, but a name surfaced in his mind before it was gone. _Sister. She’s my sister.  
  
Adila._  
  
His eyes closed and he drifted off.  
  
He came to he didn’t know how much later. This time, the obstruction in his throat was gone, replaced by a small tube beneath his nose. He sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes. He could see much clearer now, easily recognizing the inside of a hospital room. His mind was clearer, too, and memories came back to him as he blinked up at the ceiling.  
  
He remembered Rosita’s. Remember talking to his sister about the breakup with Trowa. Remembered her telling him to leave the business to their sister, Marisa. It got a little fuzzy after that. He could remember walking down the sidewalk, bits and pieces of thoughts coming back to him. He remembered the coffee shop. _That’s right, I was thinking about opening my own coffee shop. Then what happened?  
  
Oh, yes. Now I remember. Trowa called. I was talking to him and then I crossed the street. Oh, Christ! I was hit by a car!_  
  
He glanced down at his body. His legs were covered in casts, but he was relieved to note that his toes wiggled on command. He wasn’t paralyzed then. He huffed out a soft breath, some of the tension in his body fading, and turned his head at the sound of shifting to his left.  
  
Adila was sleeping in the chair next to his bed. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw her. Of course she was here. She always had been there for him. He remembered her hovering over him when he woke up the first time, telling him not to fight the ventilator. How long had she been here? How long had he been here? He glanced around, eyes taking in the numerous bouquets of flowers scattered around the room. He stared in awe at the balloons and the cards, all with messages of _‘Get Well Soon!_ ’ scribbled across them in big, swooping letters.  
  
“Quat?”  
  
He turned his head at the sound of his sister’s voice and gave her a tired grin when their eyes met. He forced out a weak, “Hey,” around a dry, painful throat.  
  
“Oh, thank God!” She sat up and rubbed the sleep away from her eyes and leaned forward. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“Like I’ve been hit by a car.”  
  
“So you remember what happened?”  
  
“Mostly.”  
  
She sighed and nodded. “The bastard that hit you took off. They did find him, though. He’s in jail. Serves the fucker right.” She turned soft eyes on him, her expression one of deep emotional turmoil. “I thought we’d lost you.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” Though he wasn’t sure why he was apologizing. For her obvious agony, he supposed. “What are my injuries?”  
  
“Well, your legs were crushed, your pelvis was smashed. You had massive internal bleeding. Your internal organs were all banged up and bruised. They had to remove your spleen because it ruptured.”  
  
He snorted. _Fucking hell, but I am a hot mess. What else is new?_ “Is that all?”  
  
She smiled. “Those are the highlights. God, Quat! I was so worried. You’ve been in a coma for nearly two weeks -”  
  
“Two _weeks?!_ ” He winced as his voice squeaked.  
  
“You were badly hurt. They had to do emergency surgery on you to try to stop the bleeding. They had you on the ventilator, but you kept fighting it so they had to keep you under until you could breathe on your own.” Her eyes misted over. “You scared the shit out of me. What the hell were you thinking?”  
  
“I got a - got a call from Trowa. I don’t know, I just…went to cross the street. I checked both ways, but I never saw him.”  
  
“The witnesses said he came out of nowhere. He was speeding, too.” Her eyes darkened with concern, but she seemed reluctant to voice it, as if something had been weighing on her that was too terrible to speak of. “You didn’t…I mean, you weren’t trying to -”  
  
“Adila, _no!_ No, I…no, it wasn’t deliberate.”  
  
Her eyes wavered, wanting to believe him. “Are you sure?”  
  
He reached for her hand, squeezed his fingers around hers. “No. I _promise_ you it was not intentional. I was sad, but not suicidal. I swear. I did check and I thought the coast was clear. I honestly never saw him coming.”  
  
She stared into his eyes, seeking truth, the need to know he wasn’t trying to kill himself. At last, she nodded and leaned back, a sigh of relief on her lips. “I believe you.”  
  
“Good.” He smiled and reached up to rub a hand down his face, cringing in revulsion when he felt at least a week’s worth of beard on his cheeks. “Ugh.”  
  
Adila giggled. “Sorry. Your beard was the last thing anyone was worried about.” She tilted her head, eyes playful. “It gives you a real manly edge. Rugged. And that’s saying something in your case.”  
  
“Har har. I wake up from a coma only to have my sister make fun of me. Thanks a lot, sis.” He glanced at her, suddenly curious. “Have you been here this whole time?”  
  
She shrugged. “Just about. Some of the other sisters came for a while, though they couldn’t stay.”  
  
He had to ask. “Any other visitors?”  
  
“Your secretary was here. She brought those flowers and that balloon.” She pointed to a colorful vase filled with yellow roses and a heart-shaped balloon that said, ‘ _Sorry you’re feeling bad_ ’.  
  
There was a sinking feeling in his chest, already knowing the answer to his next question. “Is that it?”  
  
She knew what he was thinking and nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid so, sweetheart.”  
  
He nodded and looked down. He nearly died and apparently Trowa couldn’t even find the time to come see him. It hurt.  
  
“Hey, forget about him. That just goes to show what kind of person he is and you don’t need people like that in your life. If you ask me, you’re better off.” She squeezed his hand.  
  
He didn’t feel better off. He felt monumentally screwed out of life. Cursed. He gets dumped then gets hit by a car. With his luck, he’d get flattened by a stray meteor the moment he stepped out of the hospital. Why the hell not? The universe was not his bedfellow.  
  
Speaking of which. “Am I going to be walking anytime soon?”  
  
“Not for a while. Couple of months probably. You’ll be in a wheelchair until your legs heal. They were really crunched up, Quat. You’ve probably got about twenty pounds of titanium holding your legs together right now.”  
  
He tipped his head back onto the pillow. “Wonderful.” The news just kept getting better. _Next, you’ll tell me they found a giant tumor in my nutsac_ _,_ he thought bitterly.  
  
“You’re also going to require months of physical therapy before you’re walking anywhere near normal. The doctor said you will still need the assistance of a cane, or something after that. Arthritis is also going to be a problem down the road.”  
  
He blinked back tears. He was never going to be the same. His body was irreversibly changed and now he was probably going to need to walk with a cane for the rest of his life. _Just great. Now I’m a cripple. Swell news for my future love life. I’m sure the guys will be all over me. I guess it’s time to cash in the dating card and join a bridge club. I’ve always wanted to learn how to knit._  
  
“Stuck with a cane, walking like an old man at twenty five. Sounds exciting.”  
  
“Oh, come on now. It could be worse, you know. You could be paralyzed. You could be dead. So no pity parties out of you.”  
  
He knew the last thing his sister would do was allow him to feel sorry for himself. “I just can’t help feeling like some divine creature has it out for me.” _Cthulhu, why have you forsaken me?_  
  
“If that’s how you want to look at it. Or, you could look at it as some immense challenges have been thrown your way. Are you going to be weak and let it control you? Or, are you going to fight to get better every day, to be the best you can possibly be and show the world you are not a quitter?”  
  
He stared at her and chewed his lip.  
  
“You’re strong, Quat. Stronger than you give yourself credit for. Am I going to allow you to lie there and wallow in self-pity? Hell, no. I _am_ going to help you get better and I am going to watch you show the world that Winners do not lay down and give up when they’ve hit a bump in the road.”  
  
He sighed and nodded. “You’re right. I’m still alive which is more than some people have. I’m also not paralyzed and I _will_ walk again.” He smiled at her.  
  
“That’s the spirit! Now, you’re talking. It’ll take some time, but you’ll get there.” She brushed his hair back. “I’m not going to let you get caught up in what you can’t do. We’re going to focus on what you _can_ do.”  
  
“Thanks, sis.”  
  
“I love you, kiddo. Don’t ever doubt that. You’ll get through this. We’ll get through it together.”  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
After another week, Quatre was able to get out of bed. He swung his legs, heavy and stiff with plaster, over the side and scooted his butt off the edge of the mattress. He used his arms to lift himself over into the waiting wheelchair that Adila held out for him. He sunk down with a sigh, tired from just that tiny amount of activity, and she helped him position his legs into the holders so that his feet wouldn’t drag on the floor.  
  
She turned the chair and wheeled him out of the hospital room. He had initially been dreading it, not wanting anyone to see him like this, but he found, after a week of staring at the same walls day in and day out, he was eager for some new surroundings and definitely ready for some fresh air.  
  
He nodded to the staff and other patients they passed on their trek down the hallway and smiled and waved, a little awkwardly when they greeted him warm enthusiasm.  
  
“How are you doing, Mr. Winner?”  
  
“Good to see you up and about, Mr. Winner.”  
  
Adila tapped his shoulder as they paused to wait for the elevator and she affectionately ruffled his hair when he looked up at her.  
  
“You good?”  
  
He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”  
  
There was a ding and the elevator doors opened. Adila pushed him into the lift and pressed the button for the ground floor. They waited in companionable silence for a few minutes as the elevator began its descent.  
  
“It’s good to get out of that room.”  
  
“I’m sure it is. You haven’t been out of there for three weeks.”  
  
He chuckled. “Granted, for two of them I wasn’t even conscious.”  
  
She squeezed his shoulder. “Let’s put that behind us, shall we?”  
  
He felt a wave of guilt for not only putting her through that, but for disrupting her own life to take care of him. “I’m sorry, Adila.”  
  
“For what, hon?”  
  
“All of this. You know you don’t have to be here the whole time. I feel like I’m taking you away from your life.”  
  
“I don’t have a life, dear. Remember? You’re taking me away from work, which I thank you for.”  
  
“Still, you should be out doing things, not here taking care of me.”  
  
She squatted down to be eye level with him. “Quat, I’m here because I want to be here.”  
  
“Or because you feel you need to be.” He couldn’t help but notice as he was sure Adila had, that no one was really stepping up to help him out. The rest of their sisters, some of them anyway, had put in their appearances while he was still comatose so that they could say they’d been there, but there’d been nothing since he’d woken up. He couldn’t help but feel hurt by that and guilty that all of the burden had been stacked on Adila.  
  
“Hey, I am not here because I feel obligated to be. You understand?” She gave him a firm look. He stared back for a moment, gauging her sincerity, and nodded in relief. “I am here because I want to be. You’re my little brother and you need me. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. All I want is to help you get back on your feet. Okay?”  
  
He nodded again and took a deep breath, letting it out in a soft sigh. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Addie.”  
  
She ruffled his hair and grinned. “No need to thank me, kiddo. I know you’re a tough nut to crack. That accident would have killed a normal person. But Winners are not normal people and you, my dear brother, are the least normal of all of us.”  
  
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”  
  
She shrugged. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”  
  
The doors opened and she pushed him out into the lobby. It was a solarium of sorts, completely encased in glass and filled with plants of all kinds. There was a beautiful fountain in the center and when they passed by it, Quatre looked down and saw schools of fancy goldfish and quite a number of glittering silver qirsh.  
  
The workers, patients, and visitors loitering around the lobby inevitably stared at him, shock evident on their faces. It wasn’t every day the most influential man of L4 was wheeled past you with his casted legs sticking out in front of him. He offered them polite smiles and, awe-struck, they smiled back, delighted to see him. An elderly couple approached them and Adila slowed the chair down as the woman leaned over. Her face was deeply lined, but warm and genuine and she smelled strongly of oud.  
  
“I’m so happy to see you up and about, Mr. Winner.” Her voice was soft and ruddy and she spoke with a heavy Kurdish accent. “We heard what happened and we were so worried - everyone’s been so worried about you. We’re so glad to see you’re doing better.”  
  
“Thank you, Madam. I really appreciate that.” He shook her hand and smiled up at her and the man beside her who bent slightly at the waist in a show of respect. Adila pushed the chair again towards the front doors and he waved at the woman as they passed her.  
  
“We were praying for you!”  
  
He looked over his shoulder and offered her his most charming smile. “Looks like it worked. Thank you.”  
  
Adila pushed him through the automatic doors. “See? Everyone’s been pulling for you.”  
  
“What’s the news been like?”  
  
“Not too bad actually. All of the outlets have been wishing you a speedy recovery.”  
  
“Do they know about…”  
  
“Yes. And they’ve been surprisingly gentle on that front, believe it, or not.”  
  
“Well, then I suppose something good came out of all this. Even if it was just to buffer the news of the breakup.”  
  
The sun hit him in the face along with the warm, gentle breeze of L4′s climate-controlled air and he lifted his face into it, sucking in a lungful. His lips curled up in bliss and he lifted his arms from the chair’s handles. “ _Ahh!_ Never thought I’d appreciate the regurgitated air of the colony, but I have to say, it feels marvelous!”  
  
“I’m sure it does.” Adila pushed him over to a brick ledge and sat down. “I must say, I’m enjoying it, too. I haven’t been out of the hospital much myself.” She pressed a finger to Quatre’s lips. “And don’t apologize.”  
  
He smiled sheepishly and looked away, watching the north and southbound traffic travel up and down Seventh Avenue.  
  
“I’m glad to see your spirits rising a little.”  
  
“Near-death experiences will do that. It’s weird, but…everything seems clearer, brighter. The colors are deeper. The air smells sweeter.”  
  
She nodded. “I’ve heard that can happen and the doctor even said as much. Just don’t…” She rested her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t be surprised if the sadness comes back. You really didn’t have time to grieve before the accident.”  
  
“I know. I am sad and I know I still need time to grieve. I’m also not so naive to think that the media is going to continue being nice to me out of the goodness of their hearts. No one wants to dump on a dying man. Once I’m all better, I’m sure they will take great pleasure in tearing me apart again.”  
  
“Don’t even worry about that. To hell with them. And to hell with Trowa. You’ll find someone better.”  
  
“I’m not even thinking that far ahead. I’m in no shape for a relationship right now. I just want to focus on my recovery.”  
  
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear that. Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.” She grinned.  
  
He laughed and looked down at his lap, fingers fidgety. “About what we were talking about…you know, at Rosita’s?”  
  
“Which part?”  
  
“About me leaving WEI.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
He absently scratched at his arm and glanced over at her. “I’ve been thinking a lot about it and…I think I’m going to go for it.”  
  
Adila’s eyes widened as excitement lit up her face. “Are you serious?”  
  
He nodded. “Yeah. I was beginning to seriously think about it before the accident and after, well…it just seems even more important now. Life is too short and I want to live for me.”  
  
She wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head on top of his. “Oh, sweetie! I’m so happy to hear that!”  
  
“I think I want to open a coffee shop.”  
  
She seemed surprised by that. “Really?”  
  
“Yeah. Just before Trowa called, right before I got hit, I passed by one and I just…fell in love with the idea. And I mean, you know how much I love coffee and tea and…I don’t know. It’s just something I think I would enjoy.” He glanced up at her, uncertain, needing her approval. “What do you think?”  
  
“It’s up to you, hon. If that’s what you want to do, then go for it.”  
  
“Yeah, I thought maybe a place on Earth, somewhere on the coast maybe. I love the ocean. And coffee shops are something that will always be in high demand, so…” He quirked a brow at her grin. “What?”  
  
“Nothing. You’re so cute.” He blushed and looked away, shaking his head. Big sisters. “Seriously, though. I’m really glad for you.”  
  
“You really think it’s a good idea?”  
  
“Of course! I think it’s a wonderful idea.”  
  
He smiled and tipped his head back, basking in the artificial sunlight. He felt much better. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
“C’mon, Quat! You can do it. Just one more round!”  
  
He groaned, his teeth clenched with pain, and pressed his feet into the resistance straps. His legs were killing him, especially after only twenty minutes of physical therapy. He couldn’t help but think before the accident, that this would have been no problem for him. But his post-accident body was different. More frail. His legs were still black and blue, not only from the injuries, but the surgeries. His bones were slowly and steadily healing, growing around the titanium rods and plates that made up the structure of his legs now. They would never be the same. Medical ingenuity could only do so much when the damage was extensive. Even when he was fully healed, he would always have difficulty walking.  
  
He’d had his casts off for a month now and he was walking around with the aid of a walker. He was still slow-going and he needed to stop and rest frequently, but he’d already begun to notice a minimal amount of increased strength in them and he was getting stronger with each passing day. He still tired quickly, but not as quickly as when he’d first started therapy.  
  
Adila worked with him nonstop. Pushed him to his limits and did not let up, or even give him time to stop and feel sorry for himself.  
  
“No pain, no gain, kiddo. Keep ‘em going. C’mon, _push!_ ”  
  
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore the burning cramps in his legs and hips. Sweat had broken out on his forehead and he grunted with the effort, managing to work in three more reps.  
  
“There you go. One more and I’ll treat you to a frappuccino.”  
  
“Mocha. With caramel.”  
  
“Whatever you say. Now push. There you go! Good, very good.”  
  
He tipped his head back, gasping, his legs dropping to the floor. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he caught his breath. “Damn, you’re a slave-driver!”  
  
Adila patted his knee. “Like I said, no pain, no gain. You want to get better, you gotta work for it.”  
  
He nodded and caught the towel she tossed at him, wiping the sweat from his face and neck. “Thanks for coaching me through this.”  
  
“No problem. Hit the showers and I’ll get you that frappuccino.”  
  
“ _Mocha!_ With caramel.”  
  
“Whatever.”  
  
She disappeared around the corner and he grasped the walker, sliding it closer. He reached up to grip the handles and hoisted himself up to his feet. He pushed the walker in the direction of the locker room, shuffling slowly along on legs that were tired and complaining about being forced to work after what they’d just been put through.  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled at them, wincing at the ache. He made it to the locker room and sat down on the bench, gingerly lifting one leg up to remove his shoe and sock, then lifting the other to do the same. He had more difficulty getting his sweatpants off, but eventually managed to remove them. Pulling himself back up, he wobbled to the showers, stepping into the handicapped one, using the wall-mounted supports to hold himself up. The hot water was soothing on his painful legs and he uttered a groan as the heat brought sweet relief to his throbbing muscles.  
  
He’d made progress. A lot of it in the past three months. He’d made his doctors and his sister proud with his hard work and perseverance. Of course, his history as a Gundam pilot had probably helped him along. He’d been in great shape before the accident so his recovery reflected that.  
  
It would still take some months, maybe even a year before he was deemed "recovered”. He’d never be the way he was before the accident, but he was going to try his damnedest to regain as much normalcy as he could.  
  
Trowa had finally decided to call him a month ago, but he’d been far too furious to have any kind of meaningful conversation with him.  
  
“You didn’t even come see me.”  
  
“I highly doubted you even wanted to see me.”  
  
“That’s not taking into account the first two weeks, when you thought I might die. I was actually comatose and wouldn’t have even known you were there, let alone complained about it.”  
  
It was quiet for a moment. “I sent you some flowers,” Trowa said lamely.  
  
“Like I give a shit about flowers.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Quat.”  
  
“See…you keep saying that, but I don’t think you really are. I hope things are going well with Mirdy.” He used Adila’s mispronunciation deliberately, his voice dripping with spite, then hung up. He was extremely pissed off even though their brief conversation had pretty much gone how he’d expected it to.  
  
He had returned home from the hospital after two months to discover the rest of Trowa’s stuff gone. He’d come back to pick it up while Quatre was still recovering. It turned out, he was living with the Miidi girl. They’d apparently taken up residence on L3 and were planning on traveling with the circus again in the spring. It infuriated him that Trowa had so easily moved on while Quatre was too busy just learning how to walk again.  
  
He wasn’t over it. Didn’t really have much time to dwell on it in between all the damned therapies he had to undergo just to function on a semi-normal level. On top of all that, Adila had set him up with a psychology therapist as well.  
  
“I’m not nuts, Adila.”  
  
“You don’t have to be to seek therapy, Quat.”  
  
“I’m dealing with it! Why can’t I just deal with it in my own way?”  
  
“You can! And you are, but it won’t hurt to have someone help you through it. Help you put it into perspective.”  
  
He grudgingly admitted it helped. It was a useful tool in helping him sort out and compartmentalize his grief. He found it wasn’t difficult to open up to Dr. Azazel and eventually began looking forward to his appointments. He learned that it was okay to mourn, but that there were healthy ways and unhealthy ways to do it and together, they worked on implementing those healthy habits and coping skills.  
  
He had already contacted his lawyers and his sister, Marisa, and informed them that he was signing WEI over to her. She’d snottily told him, “It’s about time.” Adila had been furious at her attitude towards him and told her as much. He didn’t really care much himself at that point. He knew how Marisa was. She would never change. The transition had gone rather smoothly and he was happy to be able to finally wash his hands of it.  
  
He began pouring through the real estate sites, looking for a storefront on Earth for a place to open up his coffee shop and he was getting very excited about the prospect. He found one in Venice Beach, California. It was an older building with a rather unique, retro type of architecture that he instantly fell in love with. It would probably require some level of restoration and repair which was likely why it had been vacant for over five years. But he was thrilled at the idea of being able to reflect his own style. He hired a few inspectors to check the building out to make sure the place was sound and up to code. When he got word that everything was on the up and up, he quickly snatched it.  
  
He would be moving down there next month once he’d completed his therapies. The shop had a small apartment in the second story of the building. He was a little nervous about the move, but eager to get the ball rolling. He was going to miss having Adila around all the time, but promised they would still get together whenever possible.  
  
He was finally feeling more optimistic about his life than he had in a long time. He was even pleasantly surprised to discover an erection sticking up between his thighs when he’d showered the other morning. Now, if that wasn’t hope for good things to come, he didn’t know what was.


	4. Heartbreak Café

The name of the coffee shop had come to Quatre in an epiphany of sorts. Namely one that included getting piss drunk with Adila during the little two-person ‘party’ she threw for him as a _Bon Voyage_ type deal.  
  
They frequented the bars and clubs of L4, trying new and unique drink concoctions until the wee hours of the morning. Quatre had a pocketful of tiny wooden umbrellas that stabbed him in the groin every time he sat down. He wobbled alongside her, his cane in hand as they walked from one bar to the next.  
  
Adila had gotten him the cane a few weeks ago to replace his walker. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship of rich mahogany wood with a marble handle. She’d bought it from an artisan vendor in the Eastern district who was well known for his handmade custom work. She’d presented it to him wrapped in a big red bow. He was still getting used to it. It was harder to balance his weight evenly on it. The walker had been much more stable, but he was determined not to use it anymore. He much preferred the cane. Adila said it gave him quite the distinguished, gentlemanly air.  
  
“Hang on, Addie. I need to sit for a minute.” Drinking while on already damaged legs and learning to use a cane didn’t make a good combination, he realized too little too late. He dropped down onto a bench, huffing a little. He was tired, his legs ached, but he knew not as much as they would be had he been completely sober.  
  
She sat down beside him and patted his leg. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“Tired, but good. I’m hurting, but not too bad. I have a feeling I’m going to regret all this walking in the morning.”  
  
“I think you’re going to regret a lot more than that,” she chuckled. “What time is your flight?”  
  
“Nine.”  
  
“Do you have a transport set up for when you get there?”  
  
“Yeah, I hired a cab.”  
  
“What, no limo?” She winked.  
  
He laughed. “No. I’m trying not to draw too much attention to myself. Besides, I’m not a huge fan of limos. You know that.”  
  
“True.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m going to miss you.”  
  
“Me, too. I’ve really enjoyed all this time we’ve spent together.”  
  
“Even when I was yelling at you and making you work?”  
  
He chuckled. “Yes. Even then. I wouldn’t be where I am now if it wasn’t for you. I really appreciate all you’ve done for me these past few months.”  
  
“Have you heard from Trowa again?”  
  
He shook his head. “No. Last time I talked to him was two months ago.” He shrugged. “I guess he’s doing well. He and… _her._ “ He was still bitter and he didn’t bother to hide his distaste. It still hurt. The secrecy, the betrayal. The fact that they had their happily ever after while Quatre was still trying to cope with the grief and his recovery from his catastrophic injuries.  
  
“I’m sorry, sweetie. You’ll find someone new. Someone who loves and appreciates you for you.”  
  
“I’m honestly not all that interested.” He wasn’t sure he could do it all again. He didn’t think anyone could possibly know him, or connect with him the way Trowa had. He’d thought Trowa was the One. Soulmates. How did you move on from that? _Face it, Quat. You might have had a chance to find love again if it wasn’t for the accident. Who would want to deal with the needs of a cripple with too much baggage? Sorry, kiddo. You’re used goods._  
  
“Maybe not now, but you will be.”  
  
“I don’t know. I think I’m just going to sign off on love and relationships for good. Besides, who would want to have sex with me now? My body’s all battered…”  
  
“You’re still healing. And you are a beautiful man. The right person will see past all that.”  
  
He sighed and let it go. He wasn’t going to convince her otherwise and he really didn’t want to dwell on his pathetically lacking love life. “Maybe. Speaking of which. How about you?”  
  
“Oh, you know me. Married to my job. I like being single. I don’t want to have to worry about cooking and cleaning for someone, doing their laundry.”  
  
He smiled. “The right one will do his own laundry.”  
  
She laughed. “That’s true.” She sat up and cupped his cheek. “Want to head back? You look tired. You need your rest.”  
  
“Little late for that now! You should have thought of that when you were dragging me to every bar in town.”  
  
“Hey, we had to see you off in style. You know that. Come on.” She linked her arm through his and helped steady him as they walked to the curb to flag a cab.  
  
He immediately flopped down onto the couch when he got home, dragging his exhausted legs up over the cushions and laid back with a heavy sigh. “There we go. Much better.” His head was spinning a little from the alcohol, but it was a pleasant buzz and he closed his eyes, feeling strangely relaxed. Adila dropped her purse on a chair and opened the windows. He hummed in contentment as the warm breeze brushed across his face. “That feels nice.”  
  
“I’ll bet California will feel nice. All those warm sea breezes.”  
  
“Oh, yeah. I can’t wait. The last time I saw the ocean was when…” He trailed off, remembering his last trip with Trowa. It had only been six months ago and Trowa was uncharacteristically romantic in comparison to the previous six months. He’d been very touchy-feely, cuddly, wanting to make love at least twice a day. Quatre had been in heaven, especially since he’d been getting close to what he considered the cold shoulder. He couldn’t figure out what was going on and the only thing he’d ever gotten from Trowa was, “Nothing. Just tired.”  
  
Of course, it hadn’t lasted. Quatre was dismayed when they returned only to have Trowa become distant again. Far away. That had been three months before he left. Three months before Quatre’s life had changed in a way he’d never expected.  
  
Adila lifted his legs off the couch, plopped down, and settled his feet into her lap. She tugged off her hijab and glanced over at him. Her hair was almost as blonde as his, close to the color Iria’s had been. Between the three of them, they were the only blondes out of the thirty Winner children. “You know…sometimes it helps to talk about it.” She lifted his pant leg. “Your ankles are swollen,” she said, her expression guilty.  
  
He snorted. “I’m not surprised.” He shook his head and stretched. “No, I’ve talked about him enough with my therapist. I don’t want to talk about him tonight.”  
  
“Okay. Just so you know, I’m here if you ever need to go off on a rant, or something.”  
  
“I know.” He smiled and wiggled his socked toes. “Rub my feet.”  
  
She rolled her eyes. “What do I look like? Your slave?” But she rubbed them all the same. He sighed as her fingers worked into the puffy skin, massaging away the soreness and fatigue in his muscles.  
  
“Serves you right after dragging me all over the place.” He smirked when she glared at him.  
  
“So, have you come up with a name for your shop?”  
  
“I think so.” He hesitated, blushing. “Don’t laugh.”  
  
“I won’t laugh.”  
  
“Promise me.”  
  
She groaned, exasperated, and held up her hand. “I promise not to laugh.”  
  
“Okay. I was thinking about…Heartbreak Café.” He eyed her sharply, looking for any quirk of her mouth that would indicate she was about to start laughing.  
  
Her eyes rolled to the ceiling as she thought about it, then nodded. “I like it.”  
  
“You do?”  
  
“Yeah. It’s very…relevant. And kind of catchy. It’s a name people will remember.”  
  
“That’s what I thought, too. Considering it’s the main reason I’m doing all this, I wanted something that would always remind me of what happened.”  
  
“I think you’ll always remember that, but…no, I really like it. I think it’s perfect. Have you thought about the fact that you’re probably going to be on your feet all day?”  
  
“Yeah. That occurred to me. I think it’s something I’ll get used to after a while, but I’m just going to have one of those roller stools so I can scoot around behind the counter when my legs give me fits. One of the nice things about Venice Beach is that it doesn’t rain all that much. I mean, it does sometimes, but not a lot. That will help when it comes to things like arthritis. I’ve read in rainy climates, weather fronts can make it hurt more.”  
  
“Are you having arthritis already?”  
  
“I don’t know if it’s arthritis, or just residual aches. But the doctor did say that I was at high risk for it, so it’s always a possibility.”  
  
“You make sure you keep up those exercises I taught you, too. You need to keep those legs strengthened.”  
  
He smiled. “I know. I will keep up on them.” He hummed as the throbbing in his legs subsided into a more tolerable burn. “I’m going to be so busy when I get there. There’s so much to do.”  
  
“I hope you have insurance on the place and all that.”  
  
He nodded. “Oh yeah. I’ve got the insurance and all the legal stuff covered already. But I still need to shop for the equipment, furniture, decorations. I have to go through the whole hiring process. Lots of things to think about and do.”  
  
“I think that’s good. It’ll keep you busy.” She leaned over and brushed a hand over his face. “You should get to bed.”  
  
“So should you. Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”  
  
“Don’t I always have to work? Don’t remind me. Is it alright if I crash here? I’ll just get up early and head back to my place in the morning to get ready.”  
  
“Of course. You know you’re always welcome here.”  
  
“Are you keeping this place?”  
  
“For now. Maybe I’ll sell it sometime in the future, but I figured I’d rent it out in the meantime.”  
  
“Think you can be a landlord from all the way in California?”  
  
“No. That’s why I’m going to hire one.” He smiled.  
  
They headed off to bed shortly after. Adila gave him a hug and patted his cheek before she disappeared into the guest room. Quatre walked into his bedroom and quickly changed into an old t-shirt he’d stolen from Trowa years ago. It was big on him, the fabric soft and worn. And it still smelled like his lover… ex-lover. His heart ached as he gazed at the bed, remembering a time when he’d come home to find his love sleeping soundly, his long body curled around Quatre’s pillow. He was coping alright, he supposed, but he missed him. The lonely nights were difficult.  
  
He sighed in relief as his bare legs slid against the cool cotton sheets. He looked down at them, examining them closely. It had taken time for him to be able to actually look at them, let alone look at them without feeling a sickening drop in his belly. For the longest time, they’d looked like they’d been caught under an industrial press and then run through a meat grinder. At least now, they didn’t look too terrible in comparison. The bruises were finally beginning to fade, but they didn’t look the same. They would never look the same again. They were misshapen, crooked, with scars running along the sides where the surgeons had to cut into them to repair the shattered bones.  
  
It was just something he was going to have to learn to live with. He was permanently handicapped, a disabled person. People were always going to gaze at him with pity in their eyes as he limped and wobbled through life with his cane. It was funny how life could change so drastically in the blink of an eye.  
  
He sighed and flipped the covers over his legs, turned off the lamp, and snuggled down into the pillow. He fell asleep quickly and didn’t wake until his alarm went off in the morning. He was grateful for the lack of dreams. A lot of them were typically recurrences of his accident, slowed down to reveal every excruciating detail. The other ones were even more nefarious. In those, it was Trowa who was hit by the car and in some of those dreams, he didn’t survive. Quatre often woke in a cold sweat, breathing hard until his adrenaline subsided and he realized Trowa was fine and that the worst had already happened.  
  
Not tonight, though. Tonight he slept peacefully and if he did dream, his mind mercifully didn’t recall them.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
The shuttle ride was grueling. Public shuttles were always cramped due to the limited space and he wound up spending nearly eight hours with his legs curled into himself, the seat in front of him pressing into his knees. By the time they landed, they were numb, the only sensation was the pinprick of invisible needles. The nerve damage he’d suffered wasn’t likely to disappear anytime soon. That kind of trauma took years to recover from, if recovery at all was possible.  
  
He had to spend several minutes stretching his legs out before he could even stand up and prayed they wouldn’t lock up on him when he did. Once he’d worked some of the feeling back into them, he used the seat in front of him for support as he lifted himself to his feet.  
  
“Sir? Do you need some help?”  
  
Quatre turned to look at the concerned flight attendant and smiled politely. “No. I’m fine. It’s just taking me a few minutes to get my legs under me. It was a long flight.”  
  
“I understand. Take all the time you need.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
At least people were willing to help him. He didn’t like being treated like an invalid, but just ignoring a person in pain was much worse. He reminded himself that he needed to get used to this and swiped his cane, slowly making his way down the aisle.  
  
He still had difficulty navigating stairs and he gripped the railing tightly as he carefully maneuvered himself down to the relative safety of the ground. He tried not to pull away when a gentleman gripped his arm to assist him and forced himself to be gracious, smiling and thanking the man when they reached the bottom.  
  
The terminal was crowded and he had to scan the thick congregation of people before he finally spotted the driver holding the sign with his name on it. He waved his cane and dragged his luggage behind him, huffing with effort. The driver greeted him and took most of the load for him, walking slowly so Quatre could keep up. He gritted his teeth and bore it, already missing Adila’s good humor and jokes about his condition. She had a way of making him feel better about it.  
  
He sunk down into the cab, grateful that fiasco was over, and rolled down the window. He closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet, fresh air that only earth could provide. The coast was beautiful, his favorite place on Earth. His eyes hungrily drank in the sight of the ocean as they drove alongside it, enjoying the palm trees and the people who were out and about, getting the most of the beautiful weather. There were walkers, joggers, bikers, people on roller skates and skateboards. Out in the distance, he could see the silhouette of the occasional surfer in the water.  
  
His place was only a twenty minute drive from the shuttle port which was convenient. He couldn’t help but smile when they pulled up in front of it. It was beautiful. It was an older building, rich with history as it had once been a disco club in the 1970’s, Before Colony. There was also a wraparound deck that was added on some years later that was perfect for the patio tables he planned on putting out there. It was mere feet from the beach and he relished in the fact that he’d be able to look out his window and see and hear the ocean. The sunsets would be absolutely breathtaking.  
  
He tried not to squeal as he scrambled out of the car and hobbled up to the building, digging his keys out of his pocket. He glanced at the driver.  
  
“Could you bring the bags upstairs for me, please? I’d really appreciate it and I’ll pay you extra.”  
  
“Sure thing, Mr. Winner.”  
  
“Thank you so much.”  
  
He unlocked the door and stepped inside. It was dusty from years of disuse and a little musty smelling. He was going to have to hire a cleaning crew to get the place all spiffy and shiny. He held the door open for the driver and thanked him again for bringing his bags up, tipping him generously when he came back down. He worked his way slowly up the stairs, eager to check out his apartment.  
  
That was at least clean as he’d had the upper floor prepped already for his arrival. It was small, two bedrooms which was perfect for when Adila came to visit. It had a little galley kitchen with a little window which overlooked the sea.  
  
The best part though was the sliding doors that opened onto the roof of the soon-to-be coffee shop. It was nice and flat, ideal for his own little makeshift patio. A couple of lawn chairs and some suntan lotion. He bounced on his heels, giddy with excitement.  
  
He’d already ordered furniture to furnish the apartment so his sofa and bed and all the amenities were already set up for him. All he had to do was unpack his clothes and toiletries. He opened up all the windows, smiling as the salty air blew into the apartment, billowing the pale green curtains. He could hear the waves of the ocean and he sat down on the couch, closing his eyes and just feeling. Feeling and hearing. He noticed there were voices that carried across the beach, but nothing bothersome. The ocean itself almost completely drowned them out.  
  
He leaned back into the suede cushions and contemplated the strange turn of events his life had taken. Three months ago, he’d gone home after work to discover Trowa was leaving him. Now, he was alone, single, but free of WEI, and living in a tiny apartment on Earth, making plans to open his own coffee shop. He’d had plenty of curve balls in his life, but this was one of the strangest ones that had ever been thrown at him. It was almost surreal.  
  
_Pinch me cause I must be dreaming._  
  
He headed down to the beach, but didn’t stay too long. It was difficult walking in the sand and he stumbled on already unsteady feet, almost falling a few times. He spent a long time just sitting on his roof, looking out over the sea and took in the sight of the setting sun. It was just as breathtaking as he remembered and he wished so much that Trowa was beside him to share it.  
  
_Remember when we used to do this, Trowa? Remember how you used to hold my hand? Remember how you used to kiss me? I don’t know what it meant to you, but for me, it was Heaven._  
  
Would he find love again? He didn’t know. Wasn’t even sure he wanted to go through all that again. Couldn’t be sure it was worth all the pain if he was just going to wind up alone.  
  
He went to bed early, tired from the long day. It was a little difficult falling asleep in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar place. But the open window and the sound of rushing waves soothed him and after a little while longer, they lulled him to sleep.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Quatre looked over the job application and then glanced up at the kid who shifted nervously in the chair across from him. He was seventeen, a recent graduate looking for a summer job. He was a scrawny kid whose hair was a shocking dual tone of blue and bright pink and Quatre had a difficult time not staring at it throughout the course of the interview. _Get a grip, Quat. Don’t you remember being seventeen?_ Actually, he did. It was only eight years ago, but he’d been a little busy with Mariemaia Khushrenada’s takeover of the ESUN and running WEI to have time to experiment with wild hair colors. He looked back down at the application.  
  
“You’ve never worked in a coffee shop before, Roger Ramirez?”  
  
“No, Sir. But I’ve worked in the food service industry since I was fourteen. My uncle Salvador owns a dive in Little Mexico. I got my start washing dishes and busing tables for him. Best authentic food from south of the border. All my grandma’s homemade recipes.”  
  
“You have a rather extensive list of past employment.” He glanced back up. “For someone so young.”  
  
The kid blushed. “Well, I - like to get my experience in.”  
  
Quatre eyed him sharply, knowing exactly what that meant. “You’re flighty is what you’re saying.”  
  
“Er…” Roger scratched his head. “I…guess? But that was more in my past. I couldn’t drive and my mom’s car was always breaking down and the buses were always late. But my last couple jobs I was there for quite a while. I’m much more committed now and I would love the opportunity to work for you, Mr. Winner.”  
  
“Why did you leave your last couple jobs?”  
  
“I had to go back to school and my mom wouldn’t let me work during the school year.”  
  
Quatre nodded. “I see. Well, I’d like to think I can rely on my employees. Have you had any problems arriving to work on time in the past couple of years?”  
  
“No, Sir. I have a reliable car now so it’s no problem. And…not to toot my own horn, but my bosses always liked me because I work hard and I do well with the customers.”  
  
“Well, I could use people who are good with the public. I’m not really looking for seasonal workers, but let’s see how you do. If you want the job, it’s yours.”  
  
The kid’s face lit up. “Really? Oh, thank you, Mr. Winner! I promise I won’t let you down.” He vigorously shook Quatre’s hand, nearly tipping his chair over in his excitement.  
  
That made five employees now and combined with himself, he managed to work out three rotating shifts of two people which worked out perfectly. He supposed he didn’t have to man the counter, but he found he rather enjoyed it. It kept him on his feet and helped him get to know his customers who he loved engaging with.  
  
The grand opening was a big hit with a line that went out the door and down the beach. For that, he had all five of his employees working as he needed all the help he could get. He was under no illusions about the fact that who he was was responsible for the initial success of the shop. The trick was to keep his customers coming back. His name would only go so far. If he wound up serving an inferior product, had a dirty shop, or rude customer service, it would be over as quickly as it had begun.  
  
At the end of the day, he was exhausted, his legs hurting badly, but he was more elated than he could ever remember being in a long time. It was a refreshing break from the impotent hopelessness and frustration of the past year. He’d come a long way, crawling out of the hole of grief and dealing with his newfound handicap and he was proud of his accomplishment.  
  
_Not too shabby, Winner. Maybe there’s hope for you yet._  
  
He stretched out on his lawn chair on the roof long after it had gotten dark and stared into the abyss of the ocean at night, his eyes picking out the tiny pinpoints of light of a few boats out for a late night cruise. He flipped his phone open and pressed the speed dial for Adila, eager to talk to her after his successful day. It was past eleven, but Adila was a night owl, often showing up for work after only a few hours sleep.  
  
“Well, hey there, little brother!”  
  
“How are you, Addie?”  
  
“I’m doing just fine, hon. Miss you terribly.”  
  
“I miss you, too. How’s work?”  
  
“Oh, you know. Same shit, different day. Got this dreadful pitch for an advertising campaign. God, what a mess. Children of War is not going to appreciate a dancing dog puppet announcing our foundation’s budget cuts.”  
  
"The board’s cutting funding again? Why didn’t you tell me?”  
  
She unleashed a long winded sigh. “Yeah. Donations are down. It was a bad quarter for us. Oh, Quat. You’ve already given so much. I hate to keep asking you for handouts. It just amazes me how quickly people forget what kids like you went through.”

Adila had started the foundation after the first war. Its goal was to help the surviving child soldiers find homes, as many of them were displaced. The foundation also provided hot meals, medical care, psychiatric care, physical and occupational therapies. They had an outstanding scholarship program for the young soldiers to complete their education and helped recent graduates find jobs. Quatre couldn’t have been more proud of Adila. She worked hard to give the struggling and oftentimes forgotten kids a chance to survive in this post war world.  
  
“Don’t be silly, Addie. I’ll send you a check and have Marisa donate some of WEI’s proceeds.”  
  
“You think you can talk her into that?”  
  
“Oh, I think we can come to an agreement of some sort.” As much as it twisted Marisa’s knickers, Quatre still held a significant portion of stocks and bonds for the company. It would be a real shame if he decided to invest in WEI’s top competitor.  
  
“You are a shrewd one, little brother.”  
  
“We have Father to thank for that.”  
  
“Well, that might be part of it, but most of it comes from you. You are a natural born leader. Speaking of which, how was the grand opening?”  
  
He sighed and tipped his head back. “Oh, Addie, it was wonderful! We had a long line out the door all day. I’m so tired, but I’m so happy. The customers seemed to enjoy the experience, too, which is what really matters.”  
  
“Your happiness matters, too. Your employees working out good then?”  
  
“Yeah, they’re great! I’ve got five now. We get along really well. They worked really hard today. I’m very proud of them.”  
  
“What are they like?”  
  
“Well, there’s Roger. He’s seventeen, just graduated from high school. He’s only here for the summer, but…it’s funny because one half of his head is blue and the other half is hot pink.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah, I had to keep telling myself not to stare at it when I interviewed him.” He chuckled. “I can’t remember ever seeing that hair color on L4. Not even once. Must be an Earth thing.”  
  
Adila laughed. “Kids these days. And no, you wouldn’t see that here. L4 is too conservative. I think I’ve seen three people with odd hair colors my whole life.”  
  
“So, then there’s Maddie. She’s twenty two and she’s also a musician.”  
  
“Like you!”  
  
“Not quite,” he snorted. “She’s less…classical, more metal, I suppose. She plays guitar and sings in a rock band. She’s also covered in tattoos and piercings.”  
  
“Good grief, Quat! Where are you finding these people?”  
  
“That’s who’s coming to apply. Maddie has a lot of experience working in coffee shops. Her references couldn’t say enough good things about her. I think she’s going to work out great. Apparently she also does gigs at coffee shops and bars and what not. I thought, maybe at some point, I could have live music on certain days and have her play. If the customers would like that.”  
  
“You might want to listen to her band first,” she pointed out.  
  
He laughed. “That’s true. That might help.” He really hoped they didn’t sound terrible.  
  
“How are you getting around down there?”  
  
“Okay, I guess. I didn’t quite factor in the increased gravity which taxes my legs more than on the colony, but I’m doing alright. Hurting now since I’ve been on my feet all day.”  
  
“Oh, honey!”  
  
“It’s okay. I’m fine, really.”  
  
“What about your rolling stool thing?”  
  
“It’s supposed to come on Tuesday. I had to order it.”  
  
“Well, make sure you use it when it comes. I don’t want you hurting yourself by overdoing it.”  
  
“I won’t. I promise.”  
  
He could hear her wistful sigh through the phone. “I can hear the ocean waves.”  
  
“It’s wonderful isn’t it?”  
  
“I’m so jealous.”  
  
“Why don’t you move down here with me?”  
  
“Quat, you know I can’t do that.”  
  
“Am I going to have the same conversation with you that you had with me three months ago?”  
  
She chuckled. “How did I know that was going to bite me in the ass?”  
  
He grinned. “Fair’s fair. You can oversee the foundation from here.”  
  
“You’re tempting me.”  
  
“Well, _I_ did it.”  
  
“You sure did. I must admit, I never thought you would. You surprised me.”  
  
“If it wasn’t for the accident, I probably wouldn’t have. It changed my whole perspective.”  
  
“Maybe I should get hit by a car.”  
  
“Don’t even _joke_ about that. Either way, I highly do _not_ recommend it. It’s not fun.”  
  
“I know. I’ll never forget watching you struggle. It was painful.”  
  
“Hear hear. But I do hope you’ll at least consider it.”  
  
“I promise I will think about it. Okay? I would really love to do that and I would like to be closer to you in case you need me.”  
  
“You’re not responsible for me, Addie.”  
  
“I am, though. But only because I love you.”  
  
He smiled, a surge of warm affection in his chest just knowing someone cared about him. “I love you, too.”  
  
He was bone tired so they wrapped up the conversation and he headed back in to get ready for bed. He hoped she would think it over. He didn’t like the fact that she felt responsible for him, but he supposed if their positions were reversed, he would feel the same way, so he couldn’t hold that against her. It would be nice to have her so close. Maybe she could even help him out at the shop. He chuckled at the mental image of his sister donning an apron and turning out cappuccinos.  
  
He crawled into bed and snuggled down into his pillows, feeling optimistic for the full day ahead tomorrow. Maybe it was the fact that something good finally happened, that despite his exhaustion, his groin began to swell. He watched the tented sheet rise as his cock filled with blood, almost amazed because it was the first solid erection he’d had since the accident and not the half assed kind he’d only had once, or twice.  
  
_Well, why the hell not?_  
  
He kicked the sheet away and worked his sleep pants off, ignoring his protesting legs. This would be the first time he’d masturbated in over three months and his hand shook as he reached for his cock. He bit his lip as his fingers wrapped around it, blown away by how good it felt. He worked his hand over himself, the pleasure awakening the desire for penetration. He was far too tired and horny to tease himself, the lack of sexual stimulation for so long, he knew it wouldn’t take much to come. His chest heaved, heart pounding with arousal as he swiped the bottle of hand lotion off his nightstand and squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers.  
  
He worked one into his opening, hissing at the sting after months of neglect. But his body remembered. It remembered the carnal pleasure of the act of fucking, the thing he craved the most and he spread his thighs wider, pulling his knees into his chest. He whimpered, helpless to the sensations as he pushed another finger inside. His mouth opened in bliss, hips undulating despite the ache in his pelvis as he fucked himself. The tip of his middle finger touched his prostate and his back bowed as ecstasy fired across his every nerve ending. He moaned loudly, not even caring if passersby heard him through his open window, too far gone now in the dizzying pleasure. He gripped his cock with his other hand and tugged on the throbbing flesh, hips thrashing wildly against the mattress.  
  
He tried not to imagine him, but the images, the memories came to his mind’s eye unbidden. Visions of the last time he’d had sex with Trowa, looking up into his handsome face as he drove himself between Quatre’s thighs. He held that vision in his mind and on the next thrust in, his fingers struck his prostate at just the right angle. His body convulsed, eyes rolling back into his head as he came all over himself, so consumed by his orgasm, he couldn’t even make a sound.  
  
He lay sprawled and panting with his sheets tangled around his legs, come cooling on his chest and belly as he gathered his wits about him. He blinked up at the ceiling, trying to clear his sight from the stars in his vision and cursed in amazement at the power of his climax.  
  
_Holy shit, but I should wait another three months to do that again.  
  
__Don’t be an idiot. You know that will never happen._  
  
Quatre shrugged, grinning in contentment as he snuggled down to sleep, looking forward to another successful day tomorrow. Heartbreak Café was destined for success. He just knew it.


	5. Old Friends

Six months later, Heartbreak Café was a booming success. It had become a phenomenon of sorts, a popular hot spot in Venice Beach. Locals and tourists alike would congregate around the café to enjoy the delicious coffees and Quatre’s unique blends of flavored teas.  
  
He’d come up with many of the original flavors while experimenting after hours with his employees. Their most popular flavors to date were blackberry apple and cacao raspberry. The coffees and teas were also highly revered due to their natural, organic ingredients.  
  
He’d launched his own brand the previous month and not only served the prepared teas and coffees in his shop, but also had the prepackaged varieties that were now served in grocery stores and markets all over the country and they were preparing to export the products internationally. He already had a fully staffed farm for the production of the ingredients which included the tea leaves and the various fruits and vegetables that were used in the beverages and purchased a factory for the manufacturing of the various blends of teas and coffees.  
  
Once again, the media was focused on him, but for reasons that were very different than they used to be. They were fascinated by the young CEO and politician turned entrepreneur who’d overcome not only his broken heart, but the trials and tribulations of his horrific, disabling accident, turning it into a thriving business. They loved covering his beach-side shop and often made the rounds, asking the patrons what they thought of it. Heartbreak Café consistently received glowing reviews from the customers and Quatre was already in the planning stages of opening up new locations all throughout California, Oregon, and Washington. It quickly surged to the top as one of the most successful coffee and tea franchises in the country.  
  
On top of selling his own product, he enthusiastically distributed products created by other local small businesses. He served homemade baked goods, candies, and other items which helped launch the sales of other entrepreneurs in the area. His shop featured works from local, struggling artists which included paintings and sculptures. His monthly charity drive was also successful. A large portion of his own personal profits were donated to a wide variety of different charities, showcasing one specific charity each month, not only to increase the proceeds, but also to increase awareness.  
  
He was a little taken aback by the instant success, not sure how much of it had to do with who he was and how much of it was the authentic enjoyment of what he had to offer. He’d questioned this one night while he and Maddie were closing up after another busy day. Maddie had been thrilled to perform with her band at the shop that evening. They really were good and the customers loved them, loved Maddie, and loved the other gigs that played there once a week.  
  
Quatre had dubbed Saturday nights his live music night and every week, he booked local bands of all types who were seeking more exposure, to play in his café. The venture got good reactions, especially drawing in the young, college crowd. He’d had to extend his patio to accommodate more tables and chairs and it was always full during business hours. When one reporter asked about the long lines and waiting times, one customer had responded, “It’s worth it!”  
  
“Honestly, Quat, don’t get hung up on how much is your name and how much is the business,” Maddie said. They’d taken to calling him that after Quatre insisted they stop with all that ‘Mr. Winner’ business. His name was always inevitably shortened as soon as anyone got to know him. “At this point, I think it’s safe to say, there’s more than who you are driving the success of this business.”  
  
“You think so?”  
  
Maddie propped the broom in the corner and picked up the dustpan. “Absolutely! It’s your experience in running businesses -”  
  
“Business. Singular, not plural.”  
  
“It’s plural now. You’re exceptionally good at it. You listen to your customers, you engage with them, change things that they want to be changed and you market amazing products. You’re also popular because you’re constantly helping to prop up other local business and you’re always looking for ways to give back to the community…and you have us.” She winked bright aqua eyelashes at him.  
  
He laughed. “Yes, that’s true. I wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for you guys. You’re the best. I mean that.”  
  
“Well, you know how to hire. You have good instincts about people.”  
  
He had to agree with that. He knew how to read people. He realized now what a gift it actually was. He still had all five of his original employees plus two more. Roger had stayed on, though he worked part time now as he was a full time student at UCLA. Quatre was immensely grateful to have kept him on the payroll. He was an excellent worker. He was friendly, outgoing, and the customers loved him. They were all on a first name basis with many of their patrons, especially with their abundant number of regulars. One tourist had even said whenever they came to town, the first place they always stopped was Heartbreak.  
  
Quatre was also happy because Adila had managed to square away a move with her job. She’d bought a house only ten minutes away and moved there two months ago and she was often seen at the shop, even helping out at times during the rush. Quatre loved having her there and they got to enjoy spending much more time together.  
  
Of course, they were constantly trying to hook each other up. Man-watching became one of their favorite activities and they had a running contest over who would break their long stint of abstinence first.  
  
“It’s you.”  
  
“No. It’s so you, Quat. Do you know how adorable you are? Have you seen how guys drool over you?”  
  
Quatre scoffed. “I see them drooling over _you_.”  
  
Adila tipped her nose in the air. “Well, yes. Many do,” she sniffed and laughed when he elbowed her. “But they’re checking you out, too, baby brother.”  
  
He shrugged. “Yeah, well…I still haven’t found anyone I’m interested in.”  
  
She lightly tapped him upside the head. “That’s because you’re comparing them all to Trowa, dummy. You have to stop doing that.”  
  
“I’m trying to! It’s hard, though.”  
  
“I know it is, hon. But you’ve got to start moving past him. He’s already moved past you -” She stopped herself, feeling terrible, especially when Quatre looked away, obviously hurt. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You know I don’t have a filter between my brain and my mouth.” She wrapped her arm around him. “Forgive me?”  
  
He sighed and rested his head on her shoulder. “Of course. You are right, though. He has moved on without me. I need to do the same and stop measuring every guy I meet up to him. Start giving them a chance to be who they are and not have to live up to Trowa standards.”  
  
“And who knows? You just might find someone who’s better.” Quatre had doubts about that. Adila sensed it, too. “Hey, anyone who could just walk away like that and be with someone else after everything the two of you have been through…there are lots of guys out there who wouldn’t do that.”  
  
“Are there?” Quatre wasn’t so sure. If someone who had been through Hell and high water with him, who knew him better than he knew himself, and could still just leave and never look back, why wouldn’t someone who didn’t have nearly that much of a connection with him? He had a lot of baggage, too. Not only his war history, but his political history and now his disability. That was a lot to cope with, even for him.  
  
“You don’t need to jump into a commitment. Neither do I. Let’s just resolve to have fun and see where that takes us. Sound good?”  
  
That actually did sound good. He nodded and smiled at her. “Yeah. Let’s do that. Nothing heavy. Just some fun. If it happens, it happens.”  
  
“There you go. That’s more like it. Now, where were we? Oh, yes. That tall drink of water over there. Think he’ll give me his number?”  
  
Quatre grinned. “Only one way to find out.”  
  
She nodded. “Okay. Hold my purse.” She dropped it into his lap and jumped off the bench before he could even utter a word of protest.  
  
“Damn it,” he muttered. “Why does she always make me hold her purse?”  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
“Three apple strawberry teas, large, two lattes, light on the milk, one with a double espresso shot, and one french vanilla frappuccino with whipped cream!”  
  
Quatre repeated the shouted order back from Maddie and set about making the drinks, scooting over to the espresso machine on his stool. They’d been going nonstop since ten o’clock and that was four hours ago. His legs were aching, tired, and he was so grateful for the stool.  
  
He’d been having trouble navigating the stairs to his apartment so he bought a house a few weeks ago. A small one-story with no stairs for him to worry about. Adila had been a great help with the move and he was now properly settled and unpacked. He’d gotten a car and his shop was now just a short, convenient drive away.  
  
“There’s no need for you to over-complicate your life,” Adila had said.  
  
He could hear Maddie ask the next person in line for their order and stopped, completely frozen when a certain, unmistakable voice carried over the noise in the café.  
  
“How much is the Quatre Winner? We’d like one of those.”  
  
Quatre turned, eyes huge, and nearly dropped the cup of coffee onto his lap when he looked into a pair of familiar indigo eyes. Those smiling, amused eyes and the signature grin beneath them. He glanced to the left to see equally familiar black eyes, smiling at him just as warmly.  
  
He was at a loss for words for a moment, his mouth gaping like a fish.  
  
“Oh my…oh my _God!_ ” He glanced at Roger. “Can you finish this for me?”  
  
“Yeah, sure.” Roger took the cup from him, looking confused by Quatre’s gobsmacked expression. He looked suspiciously at the two guys who’d caused the reaction, concerned for his boss. “Everything okay?”  
  
“Yeah! Yes. Sorry, I’m…they’re old friends.” He wiped the stickiness off his hands with a rag and stood up, shuffling over to grab his cane and walking around the counter. He could see their eyes soften in sympathy and tried not to let it bother him. He hobbled as quickly as he could over to them. They met him halfway and he nearly wept with joy as he was swept up into strong arms and hugged within an inch of his life.  
  
“Oh my God! I’m so happy to see you!”  
  
Duo leaned back, examining him closely, a softness in his eyes that make Quatre’s heart ache. “How are you?”  
  
“I’m good! I’m really good. How are you guys? What are you doing here?”  
  
“We came to see you,” Wufei said. “We’ve been hearing about your successful endeavor. The media can’t stop talking about it. Thought we’d come to see what all the hype was about.”  
  
“Do you want some coffee? Maybe a tea? It’s on the house.”  
  
“Maybe later. We were more interested in seeing you.”  
  
Quatre blushed, flattered. “Well, let’s head out. It’s really noisy in here.” He turned to Maddie who smiled at him affectionately. “Can you guys -”  
  
“Go,” Maddie said. “Go catch up. We got this.”  
  
“Thank you. I’ll be back soon.” He waved to them and headed to the door with Duo and Wufei, thanking Duo when he held the door open for him.  
  
They walked down to the water and Quatre was grateful for the assistance when Duo linked their arms together. His legs were sore, tired, and he sunk down onto a bench with a sigh, grinning when they dropped down on either side of him.  
  
“How have you guys been? What have you been up to?”  
  
“Just been with the Preventers. Traveling when we get the chance. Fei has this thing where he wants to visit every town on Earth before he dies.” Duo chuckled and glanced over Quatre’s head.  
  
Wufei scoffed. “Not _every_ town. But a lot of them, yes.”  
  
“You guys travel together?” That was an interesting development.  
  
“I should hope so since we _are_ together,” Duo said, completely surprising Quatre. “There’d better not be anyone else you’re…cavorting with, _dear_ .” He mock-glared at Wufei.  
  
“No worries, _love_ ,” Wufei shot Duo a mischievous grin.  
  
Quatre’s eyes were bugging out of his head. They were together? When did this happen? “Oh, Wow! Congratulations, then! That’s wonderful.”  
  
“Kind of a surprise, isn’t it?”  
  
Quatre shrugged. “Maybe a little. I didn’t expect that you two would ever hook up, but when I think about it, it doesn’t really surprise me.” He grinned. “You two always fought like an old married couple.”  
  
Duo nudged him. “We were sorry to hear about Tro. How are you holding up?”  
  
He sighed and tipped his head back. “I’m alright I guess. The nights are still hard, but during the day I’m so busy I don’t really have time to dwell on it. He’s with some girl now. I guess he’s happy.”  
  
“Fei was pissed when he heard about it.”  
  
“Have you guys kept in touch with him?”  
  
“No. We haven’t spoken to him since you guys broke up. I guess Heero talks to him once in a while.”  
  
Quatre hadn’t heard from Heero for quite a while, didn’t even know where he was. “How’s he doing?”  
  
“Oh, you know Hee-chan. Still following Relena around, pretending not to be a dog in heat.”  
  
That struck Quatre funny and he threw his head back, laughing loudly. Some things never changed. He smiled when Duo wrapped an arm around him, warmth swelling in his chest.  
  
“How have you _really_ been, though?”  
  
Quatre paused. That was a rather loaded question. He went with the safest answer. “It’s been difficult getting around. My legs aren’t the same. They never will be again. Adila’s been a great help.”  
  
“How is ol’ Addie?”  
  
Quatre smiled. “She’s fine. Spunky as ever. She never left my side during my recovery. She moved down here a few months ago to be closer to me.”  
  
“Duo was beside himself when we heard about your accident. I was, too. We tried to come visit you, but some of your sisters wouldn’t allow it. We were furious. We really wanted to see you.”  
  
“What?” Quatre lifted his head off Duo’s shoulder and blinked at Wufei. They’d tried to visit him?. “Which sisters?”  
  
Wufei threw his hands up. “You expect me to remember their names? I don’t know. There was a whole gaggle of them and they said they didn’t want any influence from your, and I quote, ‘warmongering past’.”  
  
Quatre’s teeth clenched together, nostrils flaring with anger. He wondered if Adila knew about this. But she would have told him and she sure as hell would never have prevented his friends, who she knew he cared deeply about, from seeing him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his rage. How _dare_ they do that to not only him, but his best friends!  
  
“I’m so sorry that happened.”  
  
“We’re just sorry we didn’t get to see you.”  
  
“Me, too. I would have loved that. I honestly had no idea you guys came. None of my sisters told me about it.” It must have been in the beginning when he was still comatose. That was when the rest of his sisters had deigned to show up and they were gone by the time he woke up. He made a mental note to ask Adila if she knew anything about it.  
  
Duo grasped his hand and squeezed it. “Do you have to go back?”  
  
He checked his watch. “Yeah, unfortunately. I don’t want to leave them during the rush like this, though I’m sure they can handle it.” They were fully capable of taking care of things, but Quatre always made sure to be an extra pair of hands when they were really busy.  
  
“Have dinner with us tonight.”  
  
Quatre grinned, excitement lighting up his face. “Sure! I would love that.”  
  
“Got any recommendations?”  
  
“There’s a great place on Fifth Street. It’s an Italian grill. I think you guys would like it.”  
  
“Sounds good to me. Fei?”  
  
“Yeah, whatever is fine with me. I like Italian.”  
  
“They have other stuff there, too if it’s not your thing.”  
  
“I just said I liked Italian.”  
  
Quatre blushed. “Right. Sorry.”  
  
“Oh, lay off him, Fei, jeez. Don’t be such an old man.”  
  
Quatre laughed at Wufei’s glare. Indeed, some things never changed.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
He headed home early, leaving the shop for his employees to handle the evening shift. He felt kind of bad about it until Maddie practically shoved him out the door.  
  
“Go! Have fun with your friends. We can handle this.”  
  
“Thanks, Maddie.”  
  
He took a quick shower and dressed, checking the time. They were meeting at five. The restaurant was popular and quickly filled up at dinnertime. Going a little early ensured they wouldn’t have to wait too long.  
  
He pulled his phone out of his pocket as it vibrated against his butt and flipped it open.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Quat, hey.”  
  
“What’s up, Addie?”  
  
“You mind if I cancel tonight, sweetie? I’m sorry to do this so short notice, but Daniel asked me out at the spur of the moment and I’d really like to go.”  
  
He smiled. “That’s fine. Go have fun with your beau. I’m glad you guys are hitting it off so well.”  
  
“What about you? I feel terrible canceling at the last minute on you.”  
  
“It’s okay. I have plans anyway, too.”  
  
“Oh, yeah? Hot date? Who is he? Come on, spill the beans.”  
  
Quatre laughed. “No, not quite. Old friends. Guess who came to the shop today?”  
  
There was a short pause. “It’s not Trowa is it?”  
  
“ _No._ Duo and Wufei.”  
  
“You’re kidding! Oh I haven’t seen them in ages. How are they?”  
  
“They’re great. Together now actually.”  
  
“Well, good for them! They make a hot couple. You can tell them I said that, too.”  
  
Quatre snorted. “I’m sure that will go right to Duo’s head. Hey…Addie?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Did you know they came to see me? In the hospital?”  
  
“ _What?_ When?”  
  
He breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t known. He kicked himself for ever thinking she would have kept that from him. “I’m not sure when. Some of the other sisters wouldn’t let them in to see me.”  
  
Adila huffed out an aggravated sigh. “God damn it. It must have been when they were all congregated in the hall with the doctors pretending like they actually cared.”  
  
That stung. Quatre was quiet, a little subdued that his own sisters cared so little for his well being.  
  
“I’m sorry, hon. I didn’t mean to say that.”  
  
“No. It’s alright. It’s true. I already knew that.”  
  
“I must have been in the room with you. If I’d known they were out there, I would have let them in. I hope you know that.”  
  
“I do. Even though I didn’t know until now, I’m just glad they tried. That makes me feel better.”  
  
“I’m going to have some words with Marisa about this.”  
  
“Oh, Addie, don’t worry about it. It’s not going to change anything. I don’t want you making more waves.”  
  
“ _I’m_ not the one making waves.”  
  
He sighed. “I know that. I’m sorry. It’s just…I don’t know. I’ve had enough of conflict. I don’t want them breathing down my neck anymore.”  
  
“I know you don’t, sweetie. This doesn’t involve you, okay? This is between me and them.”  
  
Quatre knew nothing was going to change Adila’s mind. She was determined to have it out with their sisters over their treatment of him. Adila took anything they did to him as a personal offense.  
  
“I appreciate you looking out for me.”  
  
“Hey, what are big sisters for?”  
  
He laughed. “Okay, well you have a great time with…” He batted his eyelashes and simpered, “ _Daniel_.”  
  
“Are you making fun of me?”  
  
“No, of course not,” he smirked.  
  
“I will come over there and kick your scrawny little butt.”  
  
“Hey! My butt is not scrawny!”  
  
“Whatever you say, kiddo. Don’t wait up.”  
  
“Use condoms,” he shouted into the phone as she hung up. He could imagine her shocked face at that and snickered as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
The restaurant was a little crowded, but not too bad yet. Quatre glanced around for his friends, smiling when he spotted Duo’s waving arm. He wormed his way through the tightly packed group of people in the receiving area, laughing a little as both Duo and Wufei elbowed some aside to get to him.  
  
He had to talk loudly to be heard over the din of enthusiastic conversations around him. “Did you get a table already?”  
  
“Yeah, we’re over here.” Duo pressed a hand on the small of his back and guided him through the crowd and was a little surprised when Wufei held the chair out for him.  
  
“Thank you,” he smiled and sat down. He propped his cane against the table and swiped his napkin, unfolding it over his lap. Duo grabbed the cane, looking it over with a critical eye.  
  
“This is nice. Looks handmade.”  
  
“It is. It was a gift from Adila.”  
  
“It’s beautiful.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Wufei wrapped his hand around his water goblet. “Duo has been having an increased fascination with woodworking. Thinks he’s going to be the next Norm Abrams.”  
  
“Ha ha, dear. You’re a riot.”  
  
Quatre found that interesting. “That’s great, Duo! Have you made anything?”  
  
He shrugged. “A few things.”  
  
Wufei smiled at his lover. “I tease, but he’s actually quite good.”  
  
Duo blushed. “I’m alright, I guess.”  
  
“I’d love to see what you’ve made.”  
  
“Oh, boy. Here we go,” Wufei laughed.  
  
Duo shot him a playful glare and fished his phone out of his pocket. He pulled up his photo gallery and leaned over to show Quatre the pictures. “I made this table last year. I like to use scraps from other structures. Recycle them instead of relying on the cutting down of more trees. I clean the boards up and reuse them for my projects.”  
  
The table was gorgeous and Quatre said as much. The legs were beautifully carved with intricate scrolls and grooves that swirled elegantly down the length of them. “Duo, that is beautiful! It looks like something you’d see in a magazine!”  
  
“You think so?”  
  
“Absolutely!”  
  
Wufei took a sip of water and licked his lips. “I tell him that all the time, but he doesn’t believe me. He thinks I’m biased.”  
  
Duo smirked. “You _are_ biased.”  
  
Wufei eyed him. “I’m also honest.”  
  
“True. That’s very true.” He turned back to Quatre. “You really think I have potential?”  
  
Quatre crunched on a melting cube of ice and nodded. “I think you have more than potential. You have a real gift there.”  
  
“He’s actually sold a few pieces already. He’s been working his own booth at a lot of crafting shows and he was featured as woodworker of the month in LA’s edition of _Carver_ several months ago.” Wufei looked extremely proud and Quatre didn’t blame him. Duo really was amazing.  
  
A waiter came to take their drinks and Quatre started off with a glass of Pinot Noir. He sipped it slowly as he scrolled through the pictures of Duo’s projects.  
  
“So how do you find time to do all that with the Preventers?”  
  
Duo shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “Eh. I work it in when I can. A lot of times I do it at night. I have trouble sleeping sometimes and working on my projects helps relax me.”  
  
“A chronic insomniac,” Wufei smiled fondly.  
  
“I’m sorry to hear that, Duo.”  
  
“It’s alright. I’m used to it. I think it’s just because I’m so high strung.”  
  
Their food came and Quatre grinned as Duo shoveled his food in like he was starved for it. He’d always been like that. Quatre assumed it had to do with the tragic lack of food he’d had in his childhood. He metabolized it well, Quatre noticed. If he ate like that, he’d be twice the weight he was now. Not that he had much to worry about. He was still skinny as a rail and Adila always told him he ate like a bird.  
  
He noticed Wufei was very similar to himself and figured their eating habits were a result of their stuffy upbringing. Like Quatre, Wufei neatly unfolded his napkin in his lap where Duo didn’t even bother with his. Wufei ate slowly, cutting his food into carefully measured pieces and taking small, dainty bites, his elbows never touching the table.  
  
They both looked amazing. They’d put on more muscle since he’d last seen them, probably because of their jobs at Preventers which required them to be in excellent physical shape. Quatre also assumed Duo had to do a lot of heavy lifting for his woodworking. His hair was still long and tied back in that braid, but Quatre was surprised to see Wufei’s hair down. The silky, black strands brushed over his shoulders and made him look much softer than he had during the war. He was strikingly beautiful, they both were and he realized how right Adila was. They really did make a hot couple.  
  
“Addie says you make a hot couple.”  
  
Wufei choked on a bite of his pasta and Duo threw his head back, cackling loudly. Quatre grinned at their reactions.  
  
“Oh, man. Good old Addie. How is she?”  
  
“She’s great. Like I said, she stayed with me during my recovery. She helped with my therapies. I wouldn’t even be where I am if it wasn’t for her.”  
  
“Your sister is the best.”  
  
Quatre smiled fondly. “She is. I’m lucky to have her in my life. Especially since my other sisters…” He trailed off and shook his head, not wanting to bad mouth them. They may have treated him like dirt, but they were still his sisters.  
  
Duo rested a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a shame we can’t pick our families, eh? I mean, I never had one with the exception of Solo, Father Maxwell, and Sister Helen, but I would think having a family that is incapable of love would be even worse.”  
  
Quatre rested his hand over Duo’s. “I don’t know which is worse, or if one is even worse than the other. It’s good to know that you were loved, though. You deserve it.”  
  
Duo pinched his cheek. “So do you. I’m glad you had, _have_ Addie.”  
  
“Me, too. I don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s on a date tonight. She’s got this new guy. Daniel.”  
  
“Did you read him the riot act? Clean your shotgun in front of him?”  
  
Quatre laughed. “He’s a good guy. Not to worry.”  
  
“As long as he knows he’ll have three ex-Gundam pilots on his ass if he hurts her. I could probably even recruit Heero if the need arises.”  
  
Quatre grinned. “Yes, that’s true.” That was definitely adequate incentive. “So you guys are living here, too?”  
  
“Yeah, when we’re not traveling. We’ve got a place about forty five miles away.”  
  
“So you had a bit of a drive to get here then.”  
  
Duo shrugged. “Not too bad.”  
  
“Duo drives fast,” Wufei said.  
  
Quatre didn’t doubt that. If he drove the way he piloted Deathscythe, he was a formidable presence on the road. He could just imagine Wufei bitching at him the whole way and couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image.  
  
Sadly, dinner went by too fast and Quatre was dismayed at the end of it. He didn’t want the night to end, but he knew they had to get back to their own lives. He was just thankful for the opportunity to see them again and he was so glad they’d found love in each other.  
  
“Anyone new on the romantic front for you, Quat?”  
  
Quatre snorted and finished off his second glass of wine. “As if. No, I just…” he shrugged, not knowing what to say. “I suppose I should find find someone, but it’s not easy.”  
  
“I’m sure you’ve gotten plenty of offers,” Wufei said.  
  
He actually did, but none of them really came to to fruition. He supposed that was his fault. He was too picky, too afraid of being burned again. “I just haven’t had much time,” he finished lamely.  
  
“Well, you gotta make time.”  
  
“I suppose…”  
  
“You’re still hung up on Trowa,” Duo said knowingly.  
  
“I don’t know.” He supposed that was still part of the problem. “I guess I’m just afraid of being hurt again. I don’t really know anyone as well as I knew Trowa and if he could leave me…”  
  
“You know us.”  
  
Quatre shot Duo a wry look. “Yeah? And you’re taken.”  
  
He didn’t see the way Duo and Wufei glanced at each other as he busied himself with looking over the bill. “I can take care of this,” he said, wanting to change the subject.  
  
“Quat, no. We can cover it.” Duo grabbed the bill out of his hand before he could stop him.  
  
“Duo, I got it! At least let me cover myself.”  
  
“No can do, Q. We invited you out, remember?” He pressed a finger to Quatre’s lips when he opened his mouth to protest. “Shush.”  
  
Quatre flushed and smiled. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it. And I’m so glad you came to to see me. Even at the hospital even though I didn’t find out until today. I had a lot of fun tonight. I hope we can do it again soon…” He trailed off, uncertain, a little uneasy when they stared at him intensely, looks that he couldn’t quite decipher.  
  
“You got somewhere you gotta be?”  
  
Quatre was a little taken aback. “Well…no. I was just going to head home.”  
  
Wufei’s mouth curled up slightly and his eyes gleamed with something Quatre wasn’t sure he was reading correctly. It almost looked like hunger.  
  
“Show us your place.”


	6. Mistakes

Quatre unlocked the door to his house and pushed it open, gesturing for his friends to step inside. “This is it. Welcome to my humble abode,“ he added lamely, feeling a little silly.  
  
Duo looked around and then glanced back at him. “Kind of tiny.”  
  
Wufei slapped his lover upside the head then turned to Quatre. “It’s nice, Winner.”  
  
Quatre laughed. “You know, you don’t have to keep calling me by my last name. I have enough reminders as it is.”  
  
“Don’t take it personal, Quat. He’s still learning. Hell, he still calls me ‘Maxwell’ sometimes.”  
  
Wufei sighed, sounding very put out. “Old habits die hard.”  
  
Quatre grinned. “Well, yes, it is small, but that works for me. Now I don’t have to walk so far to get from one end to the other.” He waved at his legs. “They aren’t what they used to be.” His friends smiled softly at him and he blushed, feeling self-conscious. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to drudge up his hosting skills. “Do you…want the tour, or something?”  
  
Duo waved his hand. “Naw, just show me where the bar is,” he said with a cheeky grin. He pointed to the couch. “You, sit. Rest those legs.”  
  
Quatre pointed towards a vestibule that stood between the living room and the kitchen. “It’s fully stocked. Help yourself.”  
  
Duo stepped over to the bar. “What would you like? I’ll be your host tonight. Wine?” He tried to flip a bottle of whiskey and wound up dropping it. Thankfully, the floor was carpeted so it didn’t shatter. “Shit.”  
  
“No heroics, now,” Wufei said.  
  
Quatre laughed. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”  
  
“Careful. Duo’s concoctions can be dangerous.”  
  
“Hey! They’re not dangerous. They just put a little manly hair on your chest,” he winked.  
  
Quatre smiled. “I could use a little.” He opened the top three buttons of his shirt, pulling the lapels aside to show the lack of hair on his chest.  
  
Wufei stared at it, probably longer than what would be construed as normal. “We prefer smooth anyway.”  
  
Quatre paused. That was…odd. He shrugged and closed his shirt back up and thanked Duo who handed him what looked like Jack and Coke. Duo plopped down on the couch beside him, stirring his own drink. Wufei stood in the middle of the room, looking affronted.  
  
“Where’s _my_ drink?”  
  
Duo snorted. “Do I look like your slave?”  
  
“Are you sure you want to ask me that?” Wufei smirked.  
  
“Oh, shut up and go fix your drink. You always bitch that mine are too strong anyway.”  
  
“That’s because they are.” He wandered over to the bar and grabbed a tumbler off the shelf.  
  
Quatre sipped his drink and coughed. Holy hell! Wufei was right. “Damn, Duo! How much whiskey did you put in this?”  
  
Duo grinned and tipped his glass back. “It’s good, isn’t it?”  
  
He shook his head and took another, smaller sip. The alcohol burned on its way down his esophagus. “You’re going to have a long drive home after this. I hope you don’t need to be up early.”  
  
He was a little perplexed when the two shared a look he couldn’t quite figure out. Duo suddenly turned to him and smiled. “Don’t you worry your pretty head about that, blondie. We know what we’re doing.”  
  
Quatre nodded and took another sip of his drink, noting that it didn’t seem as strong the third time, even less the fourth and fifth. His head was noticeably lighter as well, a pleasant buzz setting in. He hummed as his body warmed all over and he went willingly when Duo wrapped his arm around him and pulled him into his chest. He could feel the warm flesh beneath his friend’s shirt, hear the beat of his heart beneath his ear. It felt so amazingly comfortable and he sighed in contentment when he felt the press of Duo’s lips on the top of his head.  
  
“So what happened with Trowa?”  
  
Quatre sat up and finished off his drink and shook the glass in Duo’s face. “I’m going to need another one of these.” Duo chuckled and took the glass back to the bar for a refill. Quatre was already pleasantly drunk now that the strong drink was combined with the two glasses of wine he’d had at dinner.  
  
Duo returned with his full glass and Quatre thanked him, tipping half of it back and trying to organize his thoughts. He shook his head and stared down at his drink, watching the ice bob and float in the dark liquid.  
  
“I’m not really sure. He…started getting distant about a year before he left. I tried talking to him, but he never really told me what was wrong, just things like he was tired and whatnot. Then one day, he told me he ran into an old friend he’d met when he was a kid and they had lunch together. Which was fine, you know? I had no problem with that.” He glanced up at his friends, waiting for their nods.  
  
“Then, several months later, I found out that they’d been talking to each other through video chats and text messages. Mostly while I was at work.”  
  
“How did you find out?”  
  
“I couldn’t find my phone one day so I went to use his to try to locate it. I saw that he had a few unread messages and they were from that woman. I…didn’t read them. I didn’t want to invade Trowa’s privacy, but I was upset because Trowa told me he hadn’t been talking to anyone. When I asked him about it, he got all defensive, almost like he was mad at _me_ for asking.” He finished off his drink, feeling quite drunk now, his words starting to slur through increasingly numb lips.  
  
“It just got worse after that until I went home the night before my accident when he just up and left me. Said he couldn’t deal with it anymore.” He shrugged and glanced up. “That’s about it.”  
  
Duo’s face was contorted in confusion. “Couldn’t deal with what?”  
  
“Me, I guess. Or…what living with me, being with me entailed. All the media hounding, the long hours…I don’t know. I mean, I - I tried to spend as much time with him as I could. I tried to make him happy. Tried to make time for things he wanted to do, but…” He could feel that damning lump in the back of his throat, the sting behind his eyes. “I guess it wasn’t enough. He found someone better.”  
  
“Quat, I’m so sorry, babe.” Duo pulled him into a strong, secure embrace. He felt so safe, so cared for. It was soothing. Even more so than the whiskey. Quatre couldn’t help it, he let it go, his tears soaking Duo’s shirt. Duo stroked his hair and tried to comfort him.  
  
“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”  
  
“I’m not,” he sniffled, frustrated with himself. “Just when I think I’ve gotten over it, I lose it again.”  
  
“I don’t think you ever truly get over something like that,” Wufei said, his voice soft, gentle. “He was your first love, the only one you ever really had. That pain doesn’t just go away.”  
  
“I want it to. I just want it gone! He’s moved on without a second thought, why can’t I?”  
  
“Probably because you were far more invested in that relationship than he was.”  
  
He cried harder, harsh sobs rattling his chest. That hurt, badly. He’d always believed Trowa loved him just as much and it was devastating to hear that he probably hadn’t, even though he’d already known that deep down. Something had gone wrong along the way and it hurt not understanding what it was. It stung to hear the cold, bitter truth. But he knew he needed to hear it. Maybe that would be the catalyst that would finally help him move past this. He hoped something would because he couldn’t continue on like this.  
  
“I’m so glad you guys are here,” he murmured into Duo’s chest. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed all of you. Not just Trowa.”  
  
Wufei walked over, set his drink down on the coffee table, and knelt down in front of them, his hands resting on Quatre’s knees. “I know we haven’t been the best of friends to you.”  
  
“What?” Quatre lifted his, suddenly rather heavy, head and blinked at Wufei. “Sure you have.”  
  
“No, we haven’t,” Duo piped up. “You tried so hard for years to keep in contact with us on a regular basis and we should have kept up our end of things.”  
  
“Well…that’s okay. I mean, I understand. You were busy. You have your own lives and I -”  
  
“Listen to him making excuses for us, Fei. Isn’t he the cutest?”  
  
Quatre pouted, feeling patronized. “I’m serious.”  
  
“We know,” said Wufei. “When we came to see you in the hospital, we realized it shouldn’t have been the first time in years we came to visit you. You’ve invited us over, asked to meet with us so many times, but we - we were too caught up in our own lives and…we should have kept in better contact with you.”  
  
“It’s okay. I really do understand.”  
  
“Even as busy as you were, you still tried.” Duo tipped his chin and Quatre heart rate accelerated at the intimate gesture, the proximity of his friend’s face, way too close to be platonic. “You still tried and we should have, too.”  
  
Quatre could smell the combination of whiskey and soda on his breath. It was warm and moist as it brushed across his face. Alarm bells were going off in his head, but he was far too drunk to pay them much heed. He whimpered when Duo’s mouth closed over his, an insistent tongue probing between his lips. Quatre opened up, in full surrender, his instincts, though rusty, awakened. It had been far too long and he’d been far too lonely and the kiss just felt so good. It just felt so good to be held again and kissed like he was wanted, desired. He didn’t think he’d ever know that feeling again.  
  
More tears leaked from between already wet lashes. Overwhelmed with the feeling of being the object of someone’s ardor, his mind singing as it recalled how wonderful it felt. And not just anyone’s ardor, but people he was already close to. People he deeply cared about. That made all the difference. His eyes cracked open when hands tickled over his chest, popping open the buttons of his shirt. His gaze slid to the side to see Wufei hovering over him, his dark eyes even darker, shining with desire.  
  
Thanks in part to the alcohol, Quatre’s inhibitions were greatly reduced and he was only mildly self-conscious about his body as Wufei bared his skin, inch by inch. His head was spinning, skin flushed, though he couldn’t tell if it was his inebriation, his arousal, or a combination of both. His hazy mind registered the fact that he was being tipped onto his back and he huffed shallow breaths, murmuring soft whimpers as lips attached themselves to his neck and suckled tenderly on the skin. The sensation was so unbelievably erotic and his cock rose to full attention, pressing against the fly of his jeans.  
  
A heavy weight settled on his torso, a sharp knee pressing into his groin and his thighs opened automatically, hips rising off the couch to rub against it, seeking delicious friction. A hand turned his head to the side and then his lips were taken, so passionately that he felt breathless, suspended in a place where time no longer existed. It vaguely reminded him of those first moments waking from his coma when the world around him didn’t exist and everything was instantaneous and infinite at the same time. But now, it didn’t frighten him.  
  
He sighed, a soft, disappointed sound when the weight on his chest lifted and then hands were fumbling with his belt. It didn’t even require an ounce of forethought to lift his hips up so that his jeans slid off more easily. A terrifying sense of vulnerability swept over his body as it was bared before his friends’ hungry gazes.  
  
This was it. The moment of truth. Now his scars, his twisted, crooked limbs were exposed to eyes that weren’t his sister, or a doctor. The thing he’d been dreading for so long. The fear that his future, potential lovers would look upon his body and then what? Cringe? Look away? Run away in revulsion?  
  
To his surprise, none of those things happened. He peered up through half-lidded eyes to see his friends looking down at him with just as much desire as they had before he’d been bared and he cried with relief when they both lowered their heads and tenderly kissed along the scars of his legs, almost in worship. It was like being healed, baptized, reborn. The knowledge that he wasn’t a freak. That he was still beautiful despite his injuries, his disfigurement.  
  
Wufei surged up, cupping his face, and whispered against his mouth, “You’re so beautiful.” He said it so reverently and Quatre keened under the praise, desperate for more, parched for it. Needing absolution. He choked on a sob, his lips trembling.  
  
“Say that again…”  
  
Wufei smiled against his lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Quat. You don’t even know.”  
  
Dizzy with elation, Quatre pressed their lips together, whimpering, “Thank you, thank you,” into Wufei’s mouth.  
  
He broke the kiss and sucked in a sharp breath when Duo buried his face between his thighs, his lips closing around his cock. His hands scrabbled for purchase, coming to rest on Duo’s head, his fingers tangling in the long bangs. Duo sucked him down deeply and Quatre choked when he felt the head of his cock brushing against his throat. Duo hummed around him and the vibrations became too much. Without even realizing it was coming, his cock spurted and he pushed desperately at Duo’s head, though he wasn’t sure if it was just the overwhelming sensations, or an attempt to prevent him from choking.  
  
Duo didn’t budge. Instead, he leaned forward and sucked his cock in as far as it would go, his lips resting against the blond pubic hair. He gripped Quatre’s hips as they shook and trembled with his orgasm. Quatre went limp against the couch, flushed, breathing hard. It took a moment of recovery before he was able to realize how quickly he’d climaxed and blushed beet red with embarrassment. He glanced down at Duo.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
Duo smiled up at him, eyes gleaming, not bothered in the slightest. “I think you needed that.”  
  
Quatre chuckled. “It’s been a while.” A long while actually. Duo leaned up over him, capturing his mouth in a heated kiss. Quatre moaned, tasting himself on Duo’s tongue. “You didn’t have to do that.”  
  
“I wanted to. You taste good.” Quatre flushed even more, preening at the compliment. Duo kissed down his cheek, over his jaw and up to his ear, his tongue slithering around the shell and dipping inside. Quatre’s breath hitched as he whispered, “Let us make love to you.”  
  
His mind was spinning, something about this being wrong flitting across his thoughts, though he couldn’t remember what it was at the moment. He nodded, almost automatically, far too aroused by the prospect to say no. His body flushed with heat, his satiated cock beginning to swell again.  
  
Wufei nudged at his lover, bending down and taking his lips in a kiss. Quatre watched, the hot slide of tongues visible from his vantage point effectively pushing more blood into his cock, despite the orgasm he’d already had. It really had been too long.  
  
He shivered at their twin gazes as they looked down at him, eyes sparkling with ardor and Quatre felt completely stripped bare, the vulnerability making his body sing. He watched as they both undressed, moaning softly as their beautifully toned bodies were revealed. His fingers, aching to touch, reached out and brushed along the tight skin of Wufei’s chest when he settled down onto the couch. The skin was so soft and smooth, glowing golden in the fading sunlight outside.  
  
Unable to resist, he surged up and pulled a succulent nipple into his mouth, relishing the hiss of breath, the hand that cupped the back of his head to hold him there. He was literally over the moon. Being wanted again wasn’t something he’d expected and it was a rush unlike no other. He suckled at the nipple and turned his attention to the other one, humming in contentment as calloused hands roamed over the skin of his back.  
  
Wufei’s arm curled behind him and gently lowered him back down onto the couch, his head resting on the arm. He looked up at Duo to see him not only completely starkers, but also fishing condoms and a tiny tube of lubrication out of his jeans. Quatre raised a brow. Had they come to him with the intention of bedding him, or did they always have that stuff on hand? Not that he gave a shit either way. He relaxed against the sofa and eagerly opened his legs when Wufei’s gentle hands wrapped around his thighs and moved them apart. He slung one over the back of the couch, his other foot resting on the floor. It was such a defenseless feeling and he loved it, keening as he was exposed before the ravenous gazes of his friends.  
  
Duo chuckled at him, shaking his head fondly. “I was right, Fei. He is such a bottom.”  
  
Quatre shot him a half-assed glare, but smiled back a moment later. There was nothing wrong with being a bottom. He wasn’t ashamed of it. His pupils dilated as he watched Duo hand Wufei the lube, his heart pounding faster. Wufei uncapped it and squeezed some over his fingers and Quatre’s breath caught when the hand disappeared between his spread thighs. He held his breath as the finger, slightly chilled from the lube, circled around his opening, then pressed inside.  
  
Oh, it was exquisite. He’d almost forgotten how good it felt and his back arched sensually against the cushions, his head turning into the pillow as a low, filthy groan escaped his lips. Wufei easily found his prostate and rubbed ruthlessly against it and if Quatre hadn’t come already, he would have lost it then and there. He sucked in a harsh breath, his body twitching from the stimulation, sweat breaking out across his forehead.  
  
Duo caressed his face, brushing his hair back. He bent down and dipped his tongue into Quatre’s mouth, a low rumble escaping his throat. Quatre kissed him back and shamelessly rolled his hips against the fingers inside him. Wufei lowered his head, peppering soothing kisses over his belly. Duo lifted his lips from Quatre’s, turning to watch his lover finger-fuck the blond with eyes that were almost predatory.  
  
“I think he likes that, Fei.”  
  
Wufei murmured against the taut skin of Quatre’s belly. “I think he loves it.”  
  
Duo stared down at him and Quatre gazed up into nearly purple eyes, eyes that wanted him so bad and he shivered at the heated look. “You ready for something bigger?”  
  
“ _Yes,_ ” Quatre breathed, desperate for it now. He rolled his hips down and choked as they brushed against his prostate, igniting that itch deep within that had been neglected for so long. “Yes, I’m - I’m so ready.”  
  
Wufei abruptly pulled his fingers out and grabbed the condom off the coffee table. He tore at the packaging and Quatre didn’t fail to notice his fingers shook as he unrolled it over his cock. They were just as worked up as he was. The knowledge was intoxicating. The knowledge that he was about to get fucked, even more so. He tipped his hips up to give Wufei better access to his opening, his body language that of wanton surrender and he sucked in a giddy breath when the tip touched his entrance.  
  
He tensed involuntarily, teeth clenching when Wufei pressed forward, not used to the stretch and burn after nearly a year of abstinence. The last time he’d been fucked was on a trip with Trowa three months before he’d left. The only penetration he’d had since then was from his own fingers which wasn’t quite the same. Back then, even though Trowa had been distant, on that trip, he was different. He’d played Quatre’s body as beautifully as he had when they’d first gotten together. He’d held Quatre against his chest, hips thrusting vigorously from behind. He’d had a passion within him that Quatre hadn’t seen in months. Though, now he often wondered if Trowa’s ardor had been because someone else was on his mind when he fucked him.  
  
This time he knew _he_ was on the minds of his…were they lovers now? Probably not. They were his friends though and he knew from the way they looked at him, that it was _him_ they wanted. He released his breath as Wufei’s cock smoothly slid inside him. His body, remembering how it used to be, easily relaxed around the intrusion. Wufei waited for the wiggle of his hips and retracted his own, then slid back inside and Quatre’s body opened and unfurled like a flower in the morning sunlight. Wufei worked himself up into a slow, sensual pace and Quatre watched with fascination as the muscles in his torso rippled with his movements. It was the most erotic sight he’d ever seen.  
  
A shadow crossed above his head and he glanced up to see Duo looking down at him, a heady gleam in the lust-darkened eyes. He reached down to grasp his cock and rubbed the tip against Quatre’s lips. He opened eagerly, sucking it in, humming around the turgid length. Duo groaned and threw his head back in pleasure at the soft, wet suction, glancing back down every so often to watch his cock disappear into Quatre’s mouth.  
  
Wufei’s pace picked up, hard enough now that Quatre’s body rocked against the couch. The slight burn of the fabric against his back and ass as they rubbed back and forth over it feeding his arousal even more. Wufei grabbed his left leg, lifting it off the floor and into the air. The slight change in angle pressed the tip of Wufei’s cock into his prostate and he shouted around the dick in his mouth as the pace picked up even more.  
  
He shivered and groaned, helpless to the sensations as the thrusts bounced his body over the couch. His back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure, his toes curling as his cock leaked precome onto his belly. He felt so ravished, so delightfully dirty as he was taken to new heights of ecstasy and he realized how right Duo was. He was such a hopeless bottom. There was nothing quite as exquisite as having your legs thrown open, nothing like being taken. His skin flushed with heat as his body rode the waves of pleasure, increasingly concentrating in his groin. His hand fluttered down, wrapping around his cock and tugged at it. His balls tightened up, on the verge of releasing another climax.  
  
Wufei fucked him harder, grunting now with exertion and Duo wasn’t fairing much better. He pushed his cock through Quatre’s lips, almost frantic now. Quatre obediently opened his throat, trying hard to suppress his gag reflex as Duo pressed deep inside him. He lifted his hand, the tips of his fingers tickling Duo’s balls and Duo shouted, the sound bouncing off the walls of the living room and Quatre coughed a little, then swallowed as come shot down his throat. He groaned at the taste, drinking it down eagerly until Duo pulled out, shaking with overstimulation. He rubbed his spit-soaked cock over Quatre’s swollen lips and Quatre keened as he was fucked so hard, his back burned from the friction beneath him.  
  
Wufei dropped his leg and leaned over him, thrusting now with abandon. Quatre stared up into his face, into those eyes that stared into his, gazing at him as if he was priceless. He squeezed his cock and twisted his wrist, his eyes closing involuntarily as his cock spurted ropes of come over his belly and chest. Wufei growled and thrust hard, his hips stilling as they pressed against his ass. His eyes squeezed shut as he groaned through his orgasm, then dropped down onto Quatre’s chest. Quatre uttered an ‘omph’ from the sudden weight, but reached up to stroke the black tendrils of hair that brushed over his shoulders and huffed out a laugh.  
  
“You just laid down in my come.”  
  
Wufei’s lips were pressed against his neck, breathing hard into his sweaty skin. “S’okay,” he murmured. “We’ll clean it up in a bit.”  
  
Quatre hummed contentedly. He felt incredibly sexy, satiated, and safe. He curled his legs around Wufei’s waist, savoring the wonderful feeling of a man, worn out from vigorous sex, languishing between his thighs. It felt good knowing he’d done that, made Wufei feel so good that he was actually _nuzzling_ him.  
  
Duo snorted and bent down to press a kiss against his lover’s back. “Fei’s a cuddler.” He nodded at Quatre’s surprised expression. “I know. It’s a shocker.”  
  
“I’m full of surprises,” Wufei said, his voice muffled slightly with his lips pressed against Quatre’s neck.  
  
Quatre laughed softly. “I suppose you are. _Mmmm_ …I don’t mind at all.” He flinched a little when Wufei’s softened cock slipped out of him and chuckled when Duo wrapped his fingers around Wufei’s arms, trying to pull him up. Wufei clung to Quatre, groaning at the prospect of being moved.  
  
“Come on, love. Let the man breathe.” He pulled harder. “Do you want to be glued together?” That got Wufei moving. He lifted his chest off of Quatre’s, both of them wincing when their skin stuck together with the mingled combination of come and sweat. They glanced around for something to clean up with and Quatre grabbed his shirt off the floor.  
  
“We can use my shirt. I can get another.” He wiped himself down and handed it to Wufei who cleaned off his own torso. He snuggled down into the couch, happily sated and sleepy now. He was still rather drunk, but it was more of a groggy drunk now. His eyelids were heavy, his head strangely light. There was a lingering soreness between his legs, but it was a pleasant reminder of what had just happened more than it was bothersome. He curled his legs beneath him and snuggled into the pillow, trying to keep his eyes open and failing miserably.  
  
His friends were smiling fondly at him and he smiled back. “Thank you. That was wonderful.”  
  
Duo kissed his forehead. “Thank _you_. You were _amazing_.”  
  
Quatre preened under the praise, blinking sleepily, his cheeks flushed.  
  
“Go to sleep, Quat. You’re exhausted.”  
  
His eyes drifted closed, thoughts already slipping together nonsensically. His body grew heavy, relaxed, and he vaguely registered being pulled into a strong chest, arms hooking beneath his back and legs. He sighed as he was lifted up, was aware of being settled into his bed. He murmured as he was tucked in, his fading thoughts remembering the feeling of being loved before they were lost in the abyss of sleep.


	7. The Morning After

Quatre squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away as the bright sunlight filtered in through the window, the beams hot across his face. He groaned and rubbed his eyes tiredly. _Ugh, it’s too early for this. Go back to sleep, sun_. It felt as though something had died in his mouth and he licked dry lips, grimacing at the taste. _God, I need to stop drinking so much. I’m turning into_ \- Foggy memories surfaced to the front of his brain. Images of tangled limbs and drunken sex and he jolted awake when the reality of what he’d done last night hit him with startling clarity.  
  
_Oh, shit. No. No, I did not…_  
  
He registered warm bodies on either side of him, the weight of arms draped over him and he forced his eyes open, glancing from one sleeping face to the other, his jaw dropping in shock.  
  
_Quatre, what did you do?!_ “Oh…shit.”  
  
Sleepy indigo eyes blinked open, the face they belonged to smiled warmly at him. There was no trace of shock, or regret like Quatre expected. “Mornin’.” Duo’s voice was low, rumbly, and he absently wondered if it always sounded that deep and sexy this early in the morning.  
  
He was at somewhat of a loss, not knowing what to say. He hadn’t been expecting awkward next day encounters, much less the sex that preceded them. His face heated up as he cleared his throat. “Uh…hi.”  
  
Duo’s hand appeared from beneath the covers and caressed Quatre’s cheek. “How you feelin’?”  
  
Quatre rubbed at eyes that felt sandy, raw. _Ask me that in a few hours after I’ve had a pot of coffee._ “Mmph…I drank too much.” He glanced over at Duo, his expression guilty, face ablaze. “I’m…sorry.”  
  
Duo’s eyes clouded with confusion and Quatre felt even more ashamed. “Sorry for what?”  
  
“For last night. For…I don’t know. What happened.”  
  
“Why are you apologizin’? We seduced _you_.”  
  
“But…won’t this be a problem now between you? I can’t help but think I’ve come between something special and beautiful. I…well, I’m worried I ruined your relationship.” He squirmed, deeply uncomfortable at the notion that _he_ was now the homewrecker.  
  
“Quat.” Quatre jumped a little and turned his head at the sound of Wufei’s voice. “You didn’t ruin anything. We wanted to do this. We wanted you.”  
  
“Yeah, but…”  
  
“You’re not the first third party we’ve brought into our relationship,” Duo said. “It’s always been open to having another lover. We’ve been searchin’ for someone. Someone who would fill the missing piece.” He paused, his characteristically jovial eyes unusually serious. “And we found him.”  
  
Quatre was, to say the least, shocked. He sputtered, his mouth gaping. _Whoa! Hold the phone. Did he just…what?_ “What? _Me?_ ”  
  
Wufei took his hand, raising it up to his lips. He brushed Quatre’s knuckles against his mouth, kissing them softly, whispering against the skin. “You’re perfect for us. We want you to be a part of this. A part of us.”  
  
“You’re asking me to join your relationship?”  
  
“If that’s what you want. You don’t have to decide right away, but we’d like you to consider it. We already know what we want and that’s you. Now you have to decide what you want.”  
  
Quatre didn’t know what to say, too shocked to really react. He was being asked to begin a relationship when he hadn’t even been dating. And it was a relationship that already involved two people. Of course, he’d known them for years, but not in the way that one knows someone in such an intimate setting.  
  
Was he ready for this? It had been over a year since Trowa left. For all intents and purposes, plenty of time had passed. But did he love them? _Could_ he love them as lovers? Partners? Did they love him that way? And what happened if it didn’t work out? Would he lose two of the best friends he’d ever had?  
  
It really came down to whether it was worth the risk. Worth possibly losing both of them forever. But if it did work out, he could be a part of something really special. Something meaningful. Did he have the courage to go for it, or would he shy away for fear of being burned?  
  
“Hey,” Duo turned his head back to face him, his thumb brushing over Quatre’s bottom lip. “You don’t need to rush into a decision. I know we just dropped a bombshell on you and it’s going to take some thinkin’ over. We understand that and it’s okay. We’ll wait for you for as long as you need.”  
  
“But…what if I say no?” _And why would you say no, you fucking idiot?_  
  
He shrugged. “Then that’s fine, too. We’ll always be friends, Quat. Don’t ever worry about that.”  
  
“I’m just worried if it doesn’t work out, that I could lose you both.”  
  
“You could never lose us,” Wufei murmured. “We’re not going to walk away from you. Even if you say no. Even if it doesn’t work out, which, to be quite honest, we’re not concerned about. We think you’re a perfect fit. And we know you, in ways no one but the five of us could possibly know each other.”  
  
“Do you… _love_ me?”  
  
Duo smiled, the affection in it putting Quatre at ease. “Of course we do. Why do you think we’re here? We want you, Quat. All of you. All the time. We want to wake up in the mornin’ and go to sleep at night with you beside us.”  
  
“But,” he felt embarrassed about asking, but he had to know. “Aren’t you happy with just the two of you?” He blushed, feeling silly. “I’m sorry, I’m…just not familiar with polyamorous relationships. I don’t know what the dynamics are.”  
  
“We’ve been very happy with just the two of us. We love each other very much.” Quatre’s heart warmed when they joined hands, their clasped fingers resting over his chest. “But we both realized something was missin’. We’re happy, but we’re not _complete_. You understand?”  
  
“I think so. You really think I’m the missing piece?” _Am I really considering this? What kind of tripped up universe did my crippled ass stumble into?_  
  
“I can’t possibly imagine anyone else who could be. We tried other people before, but they never felt right. With you, it just feels so right, so perfect, so…seamless.”  
  
Quatre flushed, overwhelmed with feelings of warmth and comfort, of being wanted. Even if he decided it against it, the knowledge was more than enough to boost his confidence, make his chest swell with pride. “I want to say yes, but…I’m a little nervous. This is just so sudden. Yesterday I was contemplating the probability of being alone for the rest of my life, or at least for the foreseeable future.”  
  
Duo’s grin was back. “I know we dropped a load on you. Take all the time you need. We’ll wait.”  
  
That surprised him. “You will?”  
  
Wufei’s arm curled around him, turning him onto his side and pulling him into his strong chest. Quatre sighed when he inhaled the sweet remnants of his cologne, combined with the scent that was uniquely Wufei. “For you, we’ll wait for as long as it takes and we’ll love you no matter what you decide.” His lips closed over Quatre’s and he moaned blissfully into the kiss. Duo peppered kisses along his neck and shoulder and he hummed as the beginnings of arousal woke within his groin. Duo rubbed his hardening erection over Quatre’s backside and he pushed his hips into the friction, suddenly craving penetration again. Wufei reached over to the table beside the bed and swiped a condom and the bottle of lube, handing it to Duo who made quick work of coating his fingers.  
  
Quatre’s breath hitched as the digits slipped inside him, lazily rolling his hips into the stimulation. Sleepy sex had always been his favorite and he cherished the feeling of his leg being lifted into the air and held there by fingers that dug into the flesh of his thigh. He closed his eyes and nuzzled Wufei’s chest as the tip of Duo’s cock breached his opening which parted willingly, still slightly relaxed from the night before. Wufei kissed him, slow and sensual as his body was gently rocked back and forth. The fucking was languid, leisurely. The slow thrust of Duo’s hips from behind mind-numbingly erotic. Wufei’s hand curled around his cock and he pushed up into the fist and pressed his ass back onto the hard cock inside him.  
  
It didn’t take long for him to come, and he released his seed into Wufei’s waiting hand. He was shaky, weak, and sated as Duo rolled him onto his belly, knees pushing his thighs apart. He lifted his hips off the bed and let Duo fuck him to his own completion, loving the slap of hips against his ass. He whimpered in satisfaction when Duo groaned, long and low above him, savoring the feeling of the twitching cock inside him. Duo pressed his lips against the skin of Quatre’s back, kissing the knobs of his spine, his cock slipping out as he moved farther down.  
  
Already tired again, but wanting to please, Quatre scooted down and took Wufei’s erection into his mouth, sucking eagerly on the turgid flesh. Wufei wrapped trembling hands around his head, hissing in pleasure when Quatre’s tongue caressed the underside of his length. The tickle of Duo’s kisses on his back increased as they reached the top of his ass and he jumped when the lips and tongue continued to descend, trailing down the crack. He was pleasantly shocked, groaning around the cock in his mouth as fingers pulled his cheeks apart, and Duo’s wet tongue laved over his opening. It was delightfully sensual and dirty in the most erotic way. He whimpered, rubbing his newly wakened erection against the bed as he was eaten out. Overwhelmed with hot, searing pleasure, he took Wufei as deep into his throat as he could take him, feeling the spit slide down his chin and drip onto the bed.  
  
He sensed the rapid rise to another orgasm and he pushed his ass back against Duo’s mouth, trying to get more of that incredible sensation. _Oh, fuck. I’m gonna come again_. He ground his cock into the bed and shouted when it twitched and spurted into the sheets. He huffed deep breaths, laced with emphatic moans as he was licked through his climax, rolling his hips to prolong the ecstasy. Wufei’s fingers curled into his hair almost painfully and he sucked him in with renewed vigor, cheeks hollowing, his lips almost coming to rest against the black pubic hair. Wufei’s muscles locked, coming with a loud groan, and Quatre eagerly drank it all down. He pulled off when Wufei shook with oversensitivity and rested his head on his lover’s thigh, sighing in contentment.  
  
Duo pressed one last kiss to his opening and slid up his body, flopping down next to him. Quatre grinned like a drunken loon. “That was amazing.” He pulled Duo’s braid off his back and fiddled with it, brushing the tip against his cheek.  
  
“ _You’re_ amazing! The perfect bottom.”  
  
Quatre lifted his head up, the pieces connecting in his hazy mind. “Is that what you’re looking for? A bottom?”  
  
“In a sense, yeah. Fei and I are both versatile, but we like topping. We realized we were missin’ a bottom to love and care for.”  
  
“You don’t like bottoming?” Trowa hadn’t either. Quatre couldn’t imagine that. He absolutely loved it. Craved the heady press of penetration, the carnal experience of being fucked.  
  
“We do. We just prefer topping. We wanted someone who loved to bottom as much as we love topping. But we enjoy bottoming for each other when the need arises.”  
  
A bottom to love and care for. Quatre was tempted. But what did that entail? “What would be my role in this relationship?” He wasn’t keen on the idea of being subservient, lesser. “Would I be an equal?”  
  
Duo’s eyes widened almost comically as if Quatre had asked a preposterous question. “Sure you would! You’d have just as much say as we do. We would never force any kind of submission on you.”  
  
“Oh, well that’s good to know.” He smiled, relieved, and playfully tapped Duo’s nose.  
  
Unfortunately, they had to head back to their place as much as Quatre wished they could stay in bed all day. And he had the café to work that morning. But to his delight, they all squeezed into the shower together. Thankfully, it was a handicapped shower which was large enough to fit them all in albeit a little snugly. They washed each other’s hair and laughed when their limbs bumped together. Quatre was pleasantly surprised that they managed to wrangle another orgasm out of him, panting against Duo’s chest and gripping the shower’s handrails tightly as he was fingered into another climax.  
  
They left him to finish getting ready for work after sweeping him up into a rather aggressive embrace and planted arduous kisses on his lips that left him dizzy and disoriented. Duo nipped at his bottom lip and soothed it over with his tongue, whispering heatedly against his mouth.  
  
“You were _incredible_ , baby. We’re gonna be thinkin’ about you all day.”  
  
Quatre’s head was so high in the clouds, he barely felt the ache in his legs as he made his way to his car. He sat down, a little gingerly though he was in no mood to complain. It was the first pain he’d experienced since his accident that had been the result of something wonderful. He carefully pulled his damaged legs into the car and rested his cane against the passenger seat. He still couldn’t believe two of the most beautiful men he’d even known had seen his disfigurement and still wanted him. Not only seen, but touched and kissed. It didn’t matter. To them, he was just as beautiful as he’d been before the accident.  
  
He was still apprehensive about their proposal. It was so tempting, but so frightening at the same time. His biggest fear was losing them so he had to address that first and foremost. They’d seemed so confident which helped settle his nerves about it a little. Then again, he’d never considered being in a relationship with two people. It was new, strange, but also exciting. His skin buzzed with the heady feeling of being the object of desire, for not just one man, but two. Thinking about it left his groin in a perpetual state of mild interest. He wasn’t hard, wouldn’t be for a while after climaxing three times, four if he counted last night, but there was a continual feeling of warmth and energy down there that he’d never felt before.  
  
_Am I really questioning this? Am I seriously having doubts? What the hell is wrong with me?_  
  
The phone in his pocket buzzed to life and he fished it out and flipped it open, already knowing who it was.  
  
“Hey, Addie.”  
  
“Hey, you.”  
  
“How was your night with Daniel?”  
  
“Oh, it was wonderful! We had dinner at that new place we drove by a few weeks ago on the way to the art museum, remember?“ Quatre nodded though she couldn’t see him. Not that she waited for his answer anyway. "Then we saw that new action flick that just came out, which got Daniel’s testosterone going which was good for me, if you know what I mean.”  
  
Quatre laughed, trying not to cringe at the notion of Adila having sex. “Yeah, I think I got an idea.”  
  
“Then after, we went for a moonlit walk along the beach.”  
  
“Sounds dreadfully romantic.”  
  
“It was. I think he’s a keeper. I’m so glad I moved here.”  
  
“I’m so glad you did, too, and I’m happy you’re enjoying it. I’m happy for you and Daniel.”  
  
“So what did you end up doing?”  
  
God, but there’s the question of the century. “Um…” he blushed, not knowing how to say it. _Well, I had a threesome with Duo and Wufei. They fucked me within an inch of my life and then they asked me to join their relationship as their official bottom._ There was just no way to explain it without wanting to walk to the beach and bury himself under a mound of sand. He bit his lip and tried to stagger his way through it. "I uh…”  
  
“Quat? Is everything okay? You seem flustered. What -” There was another long pause, then, “Oh my _God!_ ”  
  
“Addie, please -”  
  
“You got laid, didn’t you?”  
  
He blushed and dropped his head to the steering wheel. “Oh, God. Yes, okay?”  
  
“Holy shit! Holy shit, I can’t believe it! I never thought I’d see the day! Holy shit, will wonders never cease?” There was a rustling sound and then Adila’s muffled voice was shouting, “My little brother got laid!” _Oh, Jesus. She’s telling her coworkers_. He flushed a deep red when he heard the answering cheers through the phone, though he was sure they were wondering why this was big news.  
  
“Addie, stop telling everyone about my sex life!”  
  
She uncovered the microphone and spoke so loudly in her excitement, he had to pull his phone away to spare his hearing. “Oh my…you have a _sex_ life! This is so cute! Okay, okay, who was it? Who was the lucky guy?”  
  
He sighed, knowing this information was going to get even more of a reaction. “Duo and Wufei.”  
  
She was quiet for a long time and for a moment, Quatre thought she’d hung up. “Addie?”  
  
“What? Are you serious?” Her voice was hushed which he knew was only the prelude to a monumental freak out.  
  
“Yeah, they uh…seduced me.”  
  
“Are you fucking _kidding me?!_ ” He winced and pulled the phone away from his ear at her high pitched shriek.  
  
“God, Addie, calm down!”  
  
“You hooked up with the two hottest guys I’ve ever seen? Both of them? At the same time?” She paused. “But…they’re already in a relationsh -oh. _Ohhhhhhh_ …they have one of _those_ relationships.”  
  
“Uh…yeah, you could say that.”  
  
“So, this was just a one-time thing?”  
  
“Uh, no, not exactly. They uh…” he flushed though not just from embarrassment this time. “They asked me to be a permanent part of the relationship.”  
  
“You said yes, right?”  
  
“Well, no. Not yet.”  
  
“What - are you _crazy?_ Do you know what kind of gift horse that is? To be a part of that…oh my God, I would _die!_ ” He could actually picture her swooning over the phone, the back of her hand pressed against her forehead. “Do you know how lucky you are?”  
  
“Actually, yes.” He was at the café now, but remained in his car and rolled the windows down, leaning his elbow on the sill. Maddie and Roger were already there and they weren’t busy yet. “I just…I don’t know. This is all happening so fast and I - I mean, I haven’t even been thinking about dating and now I’m being asked to join a committed relationship.”  
  
“Yes, but you know them.”  
  
“I do, but I don’t know them as lovers.”  
  
“Sweetie, you know them better than most lovers know each other. You guys have always had the strongest bond I’ve ever seen. You’ve all been through so much together. It doesn’t sound like it’s much of a concern for them.”  
  
“Well…no, it’s not. They seem pretty confident it will work out. They seem to think I’m what’s missing from their relationship. But how strong can their relationship be if they need someone else in it?” This was something he was having difficulty coming to terms with. Perhaps Adila could put it into perspective for him.  
  
“I don’t think it’s a question of weakness, or strength. I think you’re looking at it the wrong way. They’ve always struck me as having an extremely strong relationship. I think there are many people who are polyamorous who love the people their with deeply, but aren’t complete without another person and it has to be the _right_ person.”  
  
“But, what if there’s jealousy? I know they don’t think it would be a problem, but I worry about that.”  
  
“You think you’ll be jealous, or them?”  
  
“ _Them!_ I’m worried that one of them might start to resent me.”  
  
“I don’t think that’s how polyamorous relationships work. They work as a unit. Each specific person within it brings something special and unique to the table.”  
  
Quatre realized he had a lot to learn when it came to these kinds of relationships. He knew virtually nothing about it. He always assumed there would be some element of jealousy, or resentment. He would have been. He had been extremely jealous when he’d found out about Miidi.  
  
“But, what if I get jealous?”  
  
“You’re entering into this relationship, if you go through with it, and by the way, I’ll deck you if you don’t.” He chuckled, but sobered quickly. _She probably would_ , he thought. “You already know what you’re getting into ahead of time. This isn’t like it was with Trowa. You were practically cheated on in that case and this is not the same. You won’t be on one side of the equation, you’ll be on both. Lover to both of them. No hiding, no secrets. It’s all out in the open.”  
  
“I suppose…”  
  
“Quat, think it over, but do so objectively. Research polyamorous relationships. Do your homework and know what you’re getting into before you say yes. But, I will say this. I don’t think there’s anyone else out there who will ever understand you, or love you as much as I know they do. I think it’s the chance to be a part of something beautiful and loving and lasting and I, to be honest, would be honored to be asked to be a part of it. Just don’t let your own ignorance about what a polyamorous relationship is prevent you from being a part of something that could very well be the thing you are looking for, the thing you need.”  
  
“Okay. I promise I’ll think more about it -”  
  
“ _Objectively_.”  
  
He rolled his eyes. “Yes, objectively. I promise.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
“I’d better get going though. I’ve got to get to work.”  
  
“Yeah, me too. We’ll talk more later. How about lunch tomorrow?”  
  
“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”  
  
He grabbed his cane and climbed out of the car, feeling much better about the situation. Adila always had a way of doing that. If his legs hadn’t been so messed up, he would have skipped across the parking lot.  
  
“Morning!” He chirped as he stepped inside. He greeted the customers, shook a few hands, then walked around the counter, swiping his apron off the hook and tying it on. He noticed Maddie and Roger glance at each other out of the corner of his eye and offering them a bright, sunny smile. “Morning, guys. How was your night?”  
  
Roger smirked at him, a knowing gleam in his eyes as he turned back to his task of setting up the cappuccino machine. “ _Someone_ had a good night.”  
  
Quatre glanced from one to the other. “What? Is it that obvious?”  
  
Roger snorted. “You might as well wear a t-shirt that says _‘I Got Laid’_.”  
  
Maddie tossed a dish rag over her shoulder and propped her hands on her hips. “Okay. Spill it. Who’s the lucky guy?”  
  
He laughed and grabbed the mail off the counter. “Isn’t it against the rules for the boss to share his personal life with his employees?”  
  
Maddie scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I’ve never heard of that. Have you, Roger?”  
  
“Nope,” he grinned. “Can’t say that I have.”  
  
Quatre chuckled and shook his head. “You remember those two guys that came in here yesterday?”  
  
Maddie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Are you for real?”  
  
He nodded, probably a little too emphatically. “Yep.”  
  
“Holy cow, Quat! Those guys were hot as hell and that’s coming from a lesbian!”  
  
Quatre threw his head back and cackled. He grinned and nodded as he sifted through the envelopes. “Yes, they are.”  
  
“Well, how - I mean…how do you know them?”  
  
He wasn’t about to disclose that they’d met while piloting Gundams, but, “They’re old war comrades.”  
  
Roger turned, his eyes wide. “You were in the war?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“But, you’re only in your twenties!”  
  
“I was fifteen when I joined.”  
  
He had to laugh when both of their jaws dropped open in shock. Maddie shook her head slowly, amazed. “Wow. I was in school when that happened. My parents never would have let me do that.”  
  
Quatre snorted, the irony just too much. “Mine didn’t either. I was disowned for a time, after I joined.”  
  
“Why did you join?”  
  
“I was fighting for the people of my colony. I believed it was the only way to achieve peace.” He shrugged and sliced open an envelope, unfolding a bill and setting it to the side. “Sometimes we have to do things we don’t agree with for the good of all people.” He glanced up to see them both staring at him with wide eyes an open mouths, their expressions a mix of surprise and awe.  
  
Rogers whistled, impressed. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any cooler, boss man.”  
  
Quatre smiled, but it was bittersweet. “Well, I don’t know if that makes me cool. War is ugly and brutal. Never forget that. I had to do things that I will always have to live with. It wasn’t pretty and it was downright horrific at times.”  
  
Roger nodded solemnly. “I understand that. My mom’s brother fought. He died.”  
  
“I’m sorry to hear that, Roger.”  
  
He smiled and flipped the cappuccino machine on. “Thanks. But he died protecting our colony. He’s a hero in my eyes and so are you. My mother was so angry at him for so long, but I told her that if people weren’t willing to sacrifice to protect us, then we would all inevitably suffer from oppression and persecution. I think she understood, eventually.”  
  
Quatre thought of Cathy then. She was furious with Trowa for such a long time over his participation in the war. Quatre couldn’t blame her. She’d already lost her family to violence and Trowa represented what had been taken from her. He became her family and she’d been terrified of losing him. It took her years to understand _why_ he’d done it, why they’d all done it.  
  
Adila had been right when she’d said that no one would ever know him as well as his fellow pilots. The things they’d experienced together, anyone who hadn’t lived it could never truly understand what it had been like. Any future lover he might have would never really know him the way he wanted to be known and loved. Would they ever be able to understand and reconcile the blood on his hands? No. He knew the only ones that could were those who’d been in the trenches right alongside him. Those who carried the same burdens, had the same blood on their hands.  
  
Who could possibly be a better lover than them? He realized there really was no more perfect a fit than Duo and Wufei. He couldn’t deny he wanted them. He was already craving their smiles and their arms, the sound of their voices, their laughter. And they were incredible in bed, which was a definite bonus.  
  
Even better, they wanted him in return. Knew all about the things he’d done and still loved him because they understood. Because they’d been there, too. Spilled blood right alongside him. There was no greater love than that.  
  
He looked up to see Maddie grinning at him knowingly. “Now _that’s_ love if I’ve ever seen it.”  
  
Quatre tilted his head with a tinge of uncertainty. “You think so?”  
  
“I know love when I see it. You love those guys and from what I saw yesterday, the way they were looking at you…”  
  
Quatre hadn’t noticed that. “How were they looking at me?”  
  
“Like you were the only person in the room. Like you were the sun itself.” She paused, grinning wickedly. “And like they wanted to tear your clothes off and have their way with you.”  
  
Quatre’s face burned. “You could see all that, huh?”  
  
“Maddie sees all. She’s like an oracle, or something,” said Roger.  
  
Quatre had to concede that. She was amazingly observant and perceptive.  
  
“You are just glowing, Quat. I mean, literally. I’ve never seen you so happy.”  
  
That decided it. “If you’ll excuse me for a minute, I need to make a phone call. I’ll just…” he trailed off, turning away and stepping through the double doors, walking past the small kitchenette and into his office. He shut the door and leaned against it, his heart pounding. _Oh, God. I’m doing this. I’m really going to do this. Oh, shit. Okay, Quat, calm down. Breathe._ He closed his eyes, trying hard not to hyperventilate, and pulled his phone out.  
  
He dialed Duo’s number and pressed it to his ear, feeling more self-conscious than he had in a long time. There was a tiny, but persistent part of his brain that was already trying to convince him that they’d changed their minds and decided they didn’t want him. He swallowed it down, his stomach fluttering like crazy. He stuttered a little when Duo picked up.  
  
“Hey…Duo, it’s me.”  
  
“Hey, Kitty-Quat. What up? You doing alright?”  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, I just…can you meet me here tonight? At the end of my shift? I’ve made my decision, but I want to tell you in person and when I’m not busy.”  
  
“Sure. We’ll be there at seven sharp.”  
  
“Great. Thank you.”  
  
“No problem. See you soon.”  
  
He hung up and stuffed his phone into his pocket, trying to push it all out of his mind, including his doubts, to focus on his work. It wasn’t easy when his thoughts kept wanting to drift back to last night and this morning and overwhelm him with giddiness and a little fear. He wasn’t sure if he was making the right decision and Maddie must have seen that in him.  
  
“You are.”  
  
He sighed and smiled at her. “I hope you’re right. It’s either the best decision I’ve ever made, or the worst.”  
  
“Why would it be the worst?”  
  
“Well, what if it doesn’t work out? I could lose two of the best friends I’ve ever had. I’ve already had my heart broken once. I don’t know if I could survive another.”  
  
“You can either take the chance and have it be a wonderful thing, or you can wind up spending the rest of your life wondering ‘what if’. Even if it doesn’t work out, you’ll get through it. I know you don’t believe that, but I know you would. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”  
  
He appreciated that, even if he didn’t totally believe it. He managed to get through the rest of the day without any incidents resulting from his distracted mind and by the time he bid his employees goodbye at seven, his legs were back to aching something fierce. He parked his stool beneath the counter and grabbed his cane, trying to convince himself not to be too disappointed if they changed their minds and didn’t show up. He pushed the doors open and stepped out, glancing around for his friends, prospective lovers. His heart sunk when he didn’t see them and he stepped further out, scanning the beach and trying not to feel absolutely crushed when there was no sign of them. He checked his watch which read 7:05. They’d said sharp and Gundam pilots were nothing if not punctual.  
  
His shoulders drooped and he started towards his car, the only thing on his mind was his sofa and a pint of ice cream.  
  
“Where do you think _you’re_ going, sweet thing?”  
  
He froze at the deep voice behind him and turned, slowly, feeling the life rush back into him at the sight of his two friends. He blew out a breath, legs shaky with relief.  
  
“I -” he blushed and looked down. “I thought maybe you’d changed your minds.”  
  
Calloused fingers lifted his chin and he looked up into eyes that were as far from being changed as they could get. He nearly wept when arms closed around him from behind. The sensation of Wufei’s silky hair brushing against the side of his face, the smell of his cologne, was intoxicating and he was dizzy with so many thoughts and feelings, overcome with emotion.  
  
Duo eyes, always so expressive, told him everything he ever needed to know. That he was loved, cherished. And that he always would be. No matter what, they would be there. “There’s _nothing_ you can do that would make us change our minds.”  
  
And Quatre knew he meant it. Could see it in those indigo depths. He closed his eyes in bliss when those beautiful lips closed around his, eagerly opening for his lover’s tongue. The kiss was so powerful, so passionate, and Quatre felt like he’d stepped into one of those old, romantic films. He’d been completely swept off his feet and it was the most perfect feeling in the world. Duo pulled away just enough for Wufei to get a turn and Quatre nearly fainted as he was kissed breathless. He really hoped he wasn’t embarrassing himself by swooning, but found he didn’t much care either.  
  
His lips were swollen, throbbing when they finally allowed him to breathe. Duo cupped his face, an uncertain smile on his own.  
  
“Does that mean you accept our proposal?”  
  
Quatre pretended to think about it. “Mmm… _maaaybe_. I might need a few more dates before I’m absolutely sure. You know, wine and dine me a little.” He winked playfully and grinned when they both laughed.  
  
“I think he’s making us work for it, Fei.”  
  
Wufei smiled and brushed blond hair off Quatre’s forehead. “I have no problem with that. But first, there’s some business we need to attend to before we hit the nightlife.”  
  
Quatre cocked his head. “What’s that?” His breath hitched a moment later when a hand sqeezed his ass. “Oh. _Ohhhhh_.”  
  
He yelped when Wufei suddenly ducked and hoisted him over his shoulder, laughing as his lover jogged to the car. Duo picked up his cane that he’d dropped and chased after them, passing Wufei easily who was slower with the weight of his burden.  
  
“Last one to the car is a rotten egg!”

_End._


End file.
